


Moody, Alastor Moody

by nevillevalorum (theshirelife)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1920s, Acceptance, Adolescent Sexuality, Alastor Moody - Freeform, Boys' Love, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Clairalience, Clairaudience, Claircognizance, Clairsentience, Clairvoyance, Constant Vigilance, Dark Arts, Dark Curses, Dark Magic, Domestic Violence, Dream visions, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family Secrets, Female Homosexuality, Friendship, Friendship is Magic, Friendship/Love, Gryffinpuffs, Heterosexuality, Hogwarts, Hogwarts House Politics, Hogwarts Houses, Hogwarts Professors, Homosexuality, Hufflepuffs Rock!, Hurt/Comfort, I REGRET NOTHING, Inter-House Relationships, Inter-House Unity, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Moody Family (Harry Potter), Muggle/Wizard Relations, Muggleborn Culture, Multi, Mystery, Original Character(s), Pain, Parapsychology/Magic Intersection, Precognition, Premonitions, Psychometry, Ravendors, Ravenpuffs, Secrets, Sibling Love, Slightly-AU, Slytherclaws, Slytherdors, Slytherpuffs, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Telekinesis, This Author Regrets Nothing, Threesome - M/M/M, Too many tags?, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Werewolf, Wizard Culture, friends - Freeform, friendship to relationship, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshirelife/pseuds/nevillevalorum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alastor Moody's time at Hogwarts. Just how did he come to be a legendary Auror, fighting on the side of the good? What led to his adoption of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE" as his motto/mantra? This story will answer those questions. A coming of age story - drama with a little bit of angst and mystery. [Rating for future chapters]</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--I thought it would be fun to explore Alastor's past and figure out what led him to become the man we (officially) meet in Order of the Phoenix. I also thought it would be interesting to put him in a different time frame and draw an intersection between magic and parapsychology. </p>
<p>Please note that this story is based off a series role plays written with a friend. There will be numerous original characters both as students and Professors because there are too few canon characters known to be contemporary with Alastor Moody, aside from the fact that I needed OC's to do what I need to do with the story.--</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friendships Aboard The Hogwarts Express

“Come along, Boy, we haven’t all day.” Calla Moody instructed her younger son imperiously, the cold light in her ice blue eyes brooking no nonsense. Even her sleek shoulder-length platinum blonde hair looked like ice, shining white under the sunlight.

Ten-year-old Alastor Moody sighed and trotted along after his mother and brother, quite used to the routine. 

“Coming, Mother.”

“Do watch where you’re going!” Aurelius’s voice distracted Alastor from his examination of the cobblestone street and the boy looked up in time to see Aurelius pushing a younger tawny haired boy off of him.

The younger boy looked truly sorry. “Oh, so sorry, chap. Didn’t see you there.” He smiled, obviously thinking that would diffuse the tension immediately. 

“Yes, well, watch where you’re going next time,” Aurelius ordered him before walking away to keep pace at Calla’s side, his velvet green cloak fluttering behind him. The tone of his voice hadn’t been kind, but it hadn’t been blatantly rude or cruel either.

The other boy stared after the straight-backed redhead with a surprised look. Alastor stepped to his side and helped him to his feet. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.”

“How can _anyone_ be like that?” the tawny-haired boy asked, glancing at Alastor, his blue eyes curious and wondering.

Alastor shrugged as he helped him dust his robes off. “Dunno. He’s my brother and I’ve never known him to be any other way.”

“Say, are you starting at Hogwarts, too?” the other boy asked, eyes bright with curiosity. It amused Alastor to see how quickly the smile came back to his face. How was it that anyone could look so cheerful like that so easily?

Alastor opened his mouth to reply when his mother’s strident voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd around them. “Boy! Come along!”

“Yes, Mother,” Alastor sighed as he stepped away, apologetic. “See you.”

He turned and hurried off after his mother, dark green cloak billowing behind him, the other boy staring after him curiously. A small girl, about eight years old, suddenly appeared at the boy’s side. 

“Stew, who was that?”

“Dunno.” The boy shrugged and smiled when his sister’s hand insinuated itself into his. “I think he’ll be starting at Hogwarts this year, though.”

The girl brightened. “Maybe he’ll be in your House and you two can be friends.”

“Maybe, Poppy,” Stewart agreed with another sigh. “Maybe.”

Their mother’s voice floated over to them. “Stewart, Poppy, come along.”

“Yes, Mum!” Stewart called back, and then looked down at his sister. “C’mon, Poppy.”

She smiled, and brother and sister ran over to join their parents to shop for Stewart’s school things.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alastor Moody sighed happily as he surveyed the school supplies scattered on his bed. The uniforms were new, but weren’t the same quality as his brother’s; his books were mostly ones his brother had used, but hadn’t any need of anymore. His potions kit, cauldron, scales, and telescope were all standard issue, but nowhere near the quality of his brother’s purchases. His wand, though, was uniquely _his_ : ash, eleven inches, and pliable with a phoenix feather for the core. Picking up the box holding his wand, Alastor reverently opened it and withdrew his wand. The warm, tingling rush he’d felt upon taking the wand from Ollivander earlier returned and he swished it through the air. A shower of red and gold sparks flew from the wand, filling his room. Smiling, Alastor returned his wand to its box and began to put his school things away.

He considered his life to be normal. He’d never considered that there could be anything wrong with the fact that his brother received all of his parents’ attention and he received none. He naturally assumed that the first-born in every family received whatever attention and affection the parents had to give and the rest of the children received little or none of it. There were times when he wished his parents would pay more attention to him than to make sure he was clothed and fed, but they were few and far between.

One thing that unsettled him about his life was the strong emphasis his parents placed on the Dark Arts. The family tree in their drawing room showed what House his ancestors had been in and nearly all been in Slytherin. A several had been in Ravenclaw, but there hadn’t been any in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff to his knowledge. It was safe to assume that if there had been any who fell into either of those Houses, they’d most likely been cut right out of the family. He wasn’t sure what it was about the Dark Arts, but he didn’t like to perform the few spells his parents had deigned to teach him while his brother was away at school. For one thing, he’d never been able to use either of his parents’ wands very well. When he _did_ manage to cast the spells, he always felt as though he’d done something wrong- something awful. He never felt right about it.

Sighing, Alastor finished putting his school things away and stretched out on his bed to daydream of life at Hogwarts.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Not again!” Aurelius’s voice sounded annoyed.

Alastor looked up from getting his and his brother’s trunks onto the train to see that the same tawny haired boy with the blond highlights who’d run into Aurelius in _Diagon Alley_ had run into Aurelius _again_. 

“Frightfully sorry, old chap. Head in the clouds, I’m afraid.”

This time around Aurelius didn’t brother saying anything. He merely rolled his eyes, pushing the smaller boy away. 

Alastor left the trunks alone and walked over to help the other boy. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” The boy gave Alastor a cheeky grin. “He needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

Alastor stared at the boy. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” the other boy replied with a wink, his pert features giving him the air of an imp. “He’s a git. I should think you’d have gathered that by now, since he’s your brother and all.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but--”

“Boy! What are you doing?” Calla’s voice stopped Alastor in his tracks.

He slowly turned to her. “Sorry, Mother.”

“Get those trunks on the train this instant,” Calla ordered him, green eyes hard.

Alastor sighed softly. “Yes, Mother.” He gave the boy a glance and trudged over to where the two trunks waited and began to heave his brother’s onto the train. His eyes widened with surprise when he felt the other end being lifted. Looking over the top of it, he saw that the other boy had hold of the other end. 

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you, of course,” the other boy answered matter-of-factly. “You look like you need it.”

Alastor smiled slightly. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

“No, you don’t.” The other boy pressed forward on his end to make his point. “Now let’s get these on the train.”

Without another word, they hefted the two trunks onto the train. “Thanks for your help.”

“Think nothing of it,” the boy answered cheerfully.

Alastor opened his mouth to ask the boy a question, but a sweet voice interrupted him calling, “Stew! Where are you?” 

“I’m coming, Poppy!” The boy, apparently called Stewart, called back as he jumped down off the train.

Alastor moved to look out the window of the train and saw the boy talking with a girl no more than eight years old with the same tawny hair, though a shade lighter, and golden highlights. As the two talked, a man and woman approached, obviously their parents. The man was tall, also graced with the same hair coloring, and broad shoulders and Stewart showed signs of following in his footsteps. The woman wasn’t quite as tall as the man, with golden hair touched with tawny streaks, and a womanly, voluptuous build.

Alastor’s green eyes widened when the two adults hugged _both_ children. Why were they hugging both? It was obvious the boy was the elder of the two, and therefore should get all the affection. The family chatted for a little longer and Stewart hugged his sister before turning and bounding for the train, nearly bowling Alastor over when he climbed on board. 

“Why didn’t you go find a seat?”

“I, er, didn’t think of it,” Alastor replied, feeling his cheeks grow warm as he started down the train with the other boy, not wanting to admit that he was intrigued by his family.

Stewart cast a speculative glance his direction, but another voice, this time a boy’s, distracted him. “Oy! Stew! Over here!”

“Griff!” Stewart waved to the other boy, who had sandy brown hair, astonishing yellow hawk-like eyes, and wasn’t quite as tall. “Did you and Percy find good seats?”

The other boy nodded, smiling. “Of course! I hope you don’t mind that we invited someone else to sit with us. Well, technically it was Percy doing the inviting, really.”

“Not at all, the more the merrier,” Stewart answered jovially.

The boy suddenly spotted Alastor, who’d hung back a little. “Who’s this?”

“Er,” Stewart’s cheeks were red when he turned to Alastor. “Sorry, but what _is_ your name, anyway?”

He looked from one boy to the other. Both seemed friendly enough and had treated him better than his own brother did. He offered his hand to Stewart. 

“Moody, Alastor Moody.”

“Hello, I’m Stewart Pomfrey, but everyone calls me Stew.” The blush faded from the other boy’s cheeks as he shook Alastor’s hand. He inclined his head toward his friend. “This here’s my mate, Griffith Hooch.”

“Everyone just calls me Griff.” Griffith shook Alastor’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Stewart stepped past his friend and into the compartment.

Alastor glanced at Griffith, who gestured for the other boy to enter. Nodding, Alastor entered the compartment to find two other boys seated side by side on one of the seats. 

“Er, hi?”

Introductions were made all around. The golden-haired boy with the winning smile and bright blue eyes was Percival Lockley (who _distinctly_ preferred to be called ‘ _Percy_ ’) and the other chestnut-brown haired boy with the amber eyes was Rremly Redgrave. 

“Are you the first in your families to attend Hogwarts?” Rremly asked politely.

“Yeah!” Stewart was the first to answer, grinning cheekily.

“Ditto for me,” Griffith added.

Percival laughed. “Third in my family. My brother Jules is third year and Joss is second year. I’ve also got three cousins here, too.”

“I’m second,” Rremly smiled his head. “Holden’s a third year, too.”

The other four looked at Alastor. “What?”

“Are you the first in _your_ family to attend Hogwarts, Al?” Stewart asked.

Alastor shook his head. “No, I’ve an older brother, Aurelius. You ran into him, remember?”

“Oh, him!” Stewart nodded and hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. “The _git_. I rather put him out of my mind.”

The other boys laughed. Rremly looked thoughtful. “What House is your brother in, Al?”

“Slytherin,” Alastor answered matter-of-factly. “What about yours?”

“Hufflepuff,” came Rremly’s prompt reply, lips forming a pleasant smile.

Alastor sent a glance over to Percy to ask the same question.

“My brothers are in Ravenclaw and my cousins are in Hufflepuff,” Percy winked. 

As the five boys chatted about anything and everything, Alastor found himself laughing more than he ever had in his life. Stewart, Griffith, and Percy were a comedic trio, and the easy, casual way Stewart, Griffith, and Percy bantered back and forth and tossed insults at each other made obvious the fact that the three were boyhood friends. Rremly laughed more easily at their jokes and antics than Alastor, but he wasn’t allowed to keep to himself by the other boys.

This puzzled Alastor. He assumed, from past experience, that he, Percy, and Rremly would be ignored because they were not the firstborn in their families, but that wasn’t so. He, Percy, _and_ Rremly were included in the conversation, and the casual way they were included indicated to Alastor that this was the _modus operandi_ for the other boys. It got him thinking of the way he was treated at home.

Before he could ponder for long, though, it was time to change into their school robes and get ready to disembark from the train. Jumping down, the boys stared in awe at the darkened train station. They couldn’t stare for long, though, because a gruff voice called, “First years this way!”

The trek to the lake passed without comment, the boys looking about them as much as they could. All five stopped short when they saw the castle ahead of them, twinkling atop of the cliff. The gamekeeper didn’t let them stop for long, waving them forward after everyone had had a chance to look. When they reached the boats, the announcement that only four students were allowed per boat caused the five boys to stop and exchange looks. After a few moments of indecision Percy and Rremly headed for one boat while Stewart, Griffith, and Alastor headed for another.

Once on the other side of the lake and in a small underground harbor, the five boys regrouped. They were too awestruck to say much of anything, and Griffith was soaking wet because he’d leaned too far over the side of the boat and fallen into the lake. Before Stewart could jump in after his friend, a long tentacle had pushed Griffith, coughing and spluttering, back into the boat. Surrounding the shivering boy, the five friends followed the other first-years to the front doors of the castle, which looked even more impressive up close. The old man with the lantern knocked three times on the door and it was opened by a tall, distinguished-looking wizard in dark blue robes embroidered with purple and silver, with neatly trimmed silver touched auburn hair and goatee. 

“The first years, Professor Dumbledore.”

“Thank you, Falco,” the wizard replied. “I’ll take them from here.”

As the doors were opened wider, the first-year students, Alastor, Stewart, Griffith, Percy, and Rremly among them, trooped into the castle. The entrance hall was easily larger than the one at Moody Manor, but nowhere near as elegant. Yet, Alastor found it to be more welcoming than the entrance hall of his own home. They were led across the flagged stone floor to a small chamber off to one side of the hall, where Professor Dumbledore explained about the Houses, the Sorting, and house points. After a short wait, Professor Dumbledore returned to escort the first years into the Great Hall. As he lined up in front of the high table with the other first years, Alastor spotted his brother sitting at one of the long House tables. Aurelius’s green eyes met Alastor’s and the cool, arrogant look in them sent chills down the younger brother’s spine.

After the Sorting Hat explained its purpose, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward with a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name you will come forward and sit down. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will Sort you.”

As he watched his year mates get Sorted, Alastor wondered which House he would end up in. He knew that his parents would prefer that he be in Slytherin, and he’d accepted that without question, but now he wondered if he truly wanted to be a member of the House of the Serpent. He barely had time to think when the ceremony began.

“Albrecht, Alfons!

A smiling pert-faced chestnut brown haired boy moved to the front. The Hat was placed on his head, and after several moments called out, “SLYTHERIN!”

Following immediately after was, “Albrecht, Maximilian!” A boy identical in every respect stepped forward. “SLYTHERIN!”

Alastor watched as Maximilian went to join his twin at the Slytherin table, sitting just several spaces down from where his brother, Aurelius, sat.

“Breedlove, Belladonna!”

A golden-haired girl with unkempt shoulder length curls, one of the tallest in the year, stepped forward out of the line. Professor Dumbledore placed the large hat on her head and Alastor waited to hear which House she would be put into. 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

As Belladonna removed the hat and headed for the Gryffindor table, Alastor heard Griffith and Stewart murmuring beside him. “No surprise, her being a Gryffindor.”

“No, not at all.” Stewart agreed. “I heard she’s really quite fierce and feisty.”

“Graeme, Ross!” A dark haired boy—seemingly the same height as Belladonna—came forward. He was a bit intimidating, his eyes deep and piercing. Within a moment of the Hat’s touching his head he was heralded as, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The four remaining boys waited their turns to be Sorted. Soon enough, Professor Dumbledore called, “Hooch, Griffith!”

The sandy-haired boy, shorter than any of the others, trotted over to the stool, his shoes squishing with each step. The Sorting hat slid down over his shoulders and the four remaining boys waited anxiously. 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Alastor caught Griffith sitting down beside Belladonna, opening conversation with her. Alastor looked to the Hat just as another name was called out, “Lockley, Percival!”

He couldn’t help but notice that Percy had unusual confidence for one their age. The boy sauntered up to the seat with a winning smile. The Hat was placed upon his head. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Alastor watched as Percival made his way to the House table to sit beside Griffith, who introduced him to Belladonna, by the looks of it. He clenched and unclenched his hands, aware that he would be the next of the five to be Sorted. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be in Slytherin after all. Before he could make up his mind, Professor Dumbledore announced, “Moody, Alastor!”

As he walked over to the stool, Alastor was almost sure a murmur of whispers started up. Sitting down, the Sorting Hat slid down over his head, stopped by his shoulders. 

“Well, now, you’re going to be difficult to place. Your parents and brother were all in Slytherin, of course, but that’s no guarantee that you’ll be there, too.”

_I don’t know what I want anymore_ , Alastor thought miserably, torn between pleasing his family and pleasing himself.

“Few children know at this young an age,” the Hat replied, its tone almost soothing. “You’d do well in Hufflepuff with your loyalty, honesty, and hard work ethic. You’d do well in Gryffindor with your inner strength and moral fiber. Last, you’d do well in Slytherin, as you have the potential to do something great. However, should you be a lion or a serpent? That is the question of the moment.”

_If I go into Gryffindor, my family will most likely disown me_ , Alastor reasoned. _If I go into Slytherin, maybe my parents will actually pay attention to me for once_.

“So, what is your final answer?” the Sorting Hat asked.

Alastor sighed. _You can see in my head, which do you see?_

“SLYTHERIN!”


	2. Hogwarts and the Politics of Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor chooses to stick by his friends and faces the consequences over the Yuletide holiday.

Aurelius caught Alastor’s eye as the younger boy approached the Slytherin table and he was pleased to see that Aurelius was regarding him with some respect at least. Having been told time and time again that he was to sit with his brother, Alastor automatically sat down beside Aurelius and turned his attention back to the Sorting just as Professor Dumbledore called, “Pomfrey, Stewart!”

Alastor watched as the other boy crossed to the stool and sat down. A goofy grin upon his face as Professor Dumbledore lowered the Hat onto his head. After a few minute or two, the Hat shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”

“Good riddance,” Aurelius muttered as the boy took the Hat off and trotted over to the Ravenclaw table. Alastor smiled slightly as he remembered Stewart running into the older boy at the train station. 

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing, Aurelius,” Alastor replied innocently, his smile gone.

Aurelius gave him a searching look before returning his attention to the Sorting. Alastor did the same, just as Professor Dumbledore called, “Redgrave, Rremly!”

The last of the five boys stepped forward to be sorted, looking a bit pale. The Hat slid down over his head. A short wait later, the Hat shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

“At least he’s not in the lion’s den,” Aurelius murmured as the younger boy joined the Hufflepuff table.

Alastor listened to his brother with a sinking feeling in his stomach. If he let Aurelius dictate whom he was to associate with, he wouldn’t be allowed to spend time with the other four. He wasn’t so sure his family’s approval was worth losing the friendship of Stewart, Griffith, Percy, and Rremly. He turned back to the rest of the proceedings to distract himself from that uncomfortable thought. 

He saw a fair blond, “Stoltz, Felix” called to the front. Within a moment the pronouncement was, “RAVENCLAW!” Felix took a seat beside Stewart who immediately started a conversation, quite animatedly, to the amusement of the other boy. 

Then there was the small shy looking, sweet-faced, golden-honey haired boy, “Wilkes, Milo,” who took a seat. After a few minutes—and a few nervous adjustments to his round gold-rimmed glasses—the verdict was, “HUFFLEPUFF!” Rremly smiled and waved Milo over when he reached the table. Milo blushingly sat down beside him.

Suddenly, a new thought occurred to Alastor: would his friends even want to _stay_ friends with him? They each seemed to be doing quite well with the new Housemates they’d met… 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alastor was glad when the weekend arrived. His fears about being abandoned had been chased completely from his mind when the others found him in outside the Great Hall after breakfast for the first day of class. They fell into step beside him as if they’d always been taking classes together. This was perfect and wonderful for Alastor, as he preferred the companionship of Stewart, Griffith, Percy, Rremly, and even Belladonna to that of his roommates. Though, he supposed he didn’t really mind the Albrecht twins. They were nice enough, but seemed to keep to themselves or otherwise spent their time with Felix, the fair blond from Ravenclaw. 

Saturday morning, after breakfast, the six of them met in the courtyard, sitting in a corner of it to be out of the way. 

“Al, what’s with your brother?”

“What do you mean?” Alastor stared at Griffith, puzzled.

Griffith shrugged, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. “Well, he’s been an arrogant git, but he makes it a point to insult Gryffindors.”

“Haven’t you heard of the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin?” Alastor asked, surprised.

Griffith shrugged. “I know that it’s supposedly legendary.”

“Exactly,” Percy nodded. “To Slytherins, Gryffindors are their _worst_ enemies. It also goes the other way, too.”

Looks were exchanged all around the circle of friends. “So, does that mean _I’m_ your worst enemy?”

“No, of course not,” Alastor hastened to assure the other boy. “Most Slytherins believe that, but I prefer to make up my own mind.”

Percy clapped him on the back, cheerful as always, “Same here. It’ll be nice to tell my family there’s at least one good Slytherin out there.” 

Griffith nodded and Belladonna commented, “Well, _that’s_ good news.”

Alastor looked at each of them. “To be honest, I find I enjoy your company more than that of my own House.”

“Well, you’re stuck with us now, Al,” Stewart informed his friend as he slung an arm over his shoulders.

Alastor smiled. “Thanks, Stew.” He looked around the circle once more. “All of you.”

“Alastor Moody!” Aurelius’s voice caused them to turn around. The older boy looked furious as he stalked across the courtyard towards Alastor and the others. “ _What_ do you think you’re doing?”

Alastor gathered up the courage that had almost put him in Gryffindor. “I’m spending time with my friends.”

“With the _enemy_ , you mean,” Aurelius said coolly, coming to a stop in front of his brother. As usual his brother was polished and cool with his fine new robes, red hair neatly combed and held back by a green ribbon at the nape of his neck, his green eyes and fair face now inscrutable.

Rather than lower his head, as was expected, Alastor met his brother’s cold green gaze with a steely one of his own. “They’re my _friends_ , Aurelius. I won’t abandon them because they’re not in my House.”

“ _What?_ ” It was difficult to say which of the brothers was more astonished. Aurelius to have his brother call him by his name and stand up to him, or Alastor for actually doing it. “You’re betraying your family by doing this, Alastor Moody.”

Alastor stubbornly held his brother’s gaze, though he’d always been taught to keep his eyes lowered. “I’d betray myself if I turned my back on them, Aurelius.”

“I’ll inform our parents of this. They will _not_ be pleased to hear about it,” Aurelius warned his brother.

Alastor shrugged. “Write to them if you want, Aurelius, but it won’t change my mind.”

“Very well.” With a swish of his cloak, Aurelius turned and strode back across the courtyard and disappeared into the castle.

When Alastor turned back to his friends, they were all staring at him with wide eyes. 

“What?”

“Why aren’t you in Gryffindor?” Griffith exclaimed.

Heat suffused Alastor’s cheeks. His voice was low when he answered, “The Hat couldn’t decide which House to put me in. I asked for Slytherin in the hope that my family will treat me better.”

“Apparently, it didn’t work,” Belladonna commented dryly.

Alastor nodded, drawing his cloak tighter around him. “I might just as well have asked for Gryffindor, given how Aurelius just treated me.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Despite many demands from his parents and brother, Alastor refused to give up his friendship with the other boys. They were the first in his experience to treat him as a person, rather than a thing. He knew Aurelius was watching him, and reporting to their parents, whom he would have to face at Christmas, but he enjoyed the friendship of the others anyway, choosing to face his father’s wrath rather than spend his free time alone. 

All six of them would be spending the winter holidays with their respective families, and enjoyed the train ride home together. When they jumped down from the train, six voices called different names: “Stew!” “Bro!” “Rrem!” “Percy!” “Bella!” “Boy!”

While the other four lit up when they caught sight of their families, Alastor cringed, and he couldn’t help but notice that Belladonna wasn’t smiling either. His mother’s tone indicated that she was not happy and her face, when he saw it, reinforced that impression. 

“Come along! Quickly now, Boy!”

“Yes, Mother,” Alastor replied, trudging towards her with his and Aurelius’s trunks in tow.

His coldly elegant mother nodded curtly and looked over his head to someone behind him. “Ah, Aurelius. Time to go.”

“Yes, Mother,” Aurelius replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his green eyes.

Alastor watched with a yearning heart as Calla greeted her elder son with a warm hug, her vivid blonde hair falling against Aurelius face as she pulled him close. “Come along,” she barely glanced at her younger son, “both of you.”

“Yes, Mother,” the two boys chorused. While Aurelius walked alongside Calla with his head up, Alastor followed along behind them with the trunks, his head drooping.

Glancing around before they went back through the barrier into the Muggle part of the train station, Alastor spotted the other four with their families, talking and laughing. Two girls, both about eight years old, listened with rapt attention while three older boys and three older girls, all about thirteen, chuckled at what they were saying. Heaving a sigh of longing, Alastor walked through the barrier, just before a voice called, “Oy, Al!”

 

Augustus was waiting when Calla returned with the two boys. He looked stately and imposing, as usual, his red hair held back by a black ribbon at his neck. His dark green eyes rested upon Aurelius as though Alastor wasn’t there at all. 

“Aurelius, hello.”

“Hello, Father,” Aurelius shook his father’s hand.

Augustus glanced at Alastor as the house-elves took the trunks before returning his glance to Aurelius. “Go on upstairs, Son. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Yes, Father.” Aurelius nodded to Augustus, his expression calm and carefully neutral, and kissed his mother’s cheek before disappearing up the stairs.

Augustus’ dark green eyes, when he looked down at Alastor, were cold and hard. “In the study, now, Boy.”

“Yes, Father,” Alastor sighed and headed that direction.

Augustus followed him into the study and shut the doors behind them with a sharp snap. “Aurelius has informed your mother and I that you insist on fraternizing, not only with three Gryffindors, but a Hufflepuff as well!”

“Yes, Father, I have,” Alastor replied, digging for the courage that had helped him to stand up to his brother. This was difficult because Augustus was a great deal more frightening where Aurelius was only intimidating.

Augustus waited a few moments, as if he expected an explanation, before continuing. “I have told you, _repeatedly_ , that you’re not to consort with Gryffindors _or_ Hufflepuffs.”

“I know, Father.” Alastor’s voice was low, but firm. He stared at his father’s shoes.

Alastor jumped when Augustus slammed a fist onto the desk. “ _Why_ do you insist upon disobeying that directive? I have explained why you’re not to do this.”

“Because I prefer to choose my own friends, Father,” Alastor replied, slowly lifting his head to meet his father’s furious gaze. “Percy Lockley, Griffith Hooch, Belladonna Breedlove, and Rremly Redgrave have never given me a reason _not_ to be their friend.”

“That doesn’t matter at all!” Augustus raged. “Friendly or not, Gryffindor was Slytherin’s sworn enemy! To consort with _any_ of Gryffindor’s chosen is an insult to the memory of Slytherin!”

Alastor fought to hold his father’s gaze. “I don’t care, Father! They’re my friends and I’ll spend time with them if I wish to!”

“The boys in your House are more suitable companions for you!” Augustus countered, his eyes practically blazing with fury now.

Alastor’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he replied through gritted teeth, “What about Stewart Pomfrey? You haven’t mentioned him.”

“He is a Ravenclaw,” Augustus answered, calming somewhat. “She was always a friend to Slytherin, and has earned no enmity from our House.”

Alastor dug his nails into his palms. “I won’t turn my back on my friends, no matter their House!”

Augustus stared down at his younger son, a mix of wonder, fury, and shock on his face at the audacity of the boy. This was the most backbone he had shown in all his life, and it infuriated Augustus. 

“You’ll be punished for this, Alastor Adelais Moody! Make no mistake about that!”

Alastor swallowed hard, but stood his ground. “I accept the punishment, Father.”

“Very well.” Augustus nodded and summoned the birch rod from the corner of the room. “Trousers down, hands on desk.” Biting his lip, Alastor did as he was ordered. 

The first stinging hex made him jump, but he did not cry out. To do so would have earned him a stronger punishment. After what seemed like forever, the hexes stopped. “Go to your room, and stay there. I want you to consider your actions more carefully in the future.”

“Yes, Father.” Wincing, Alastor pulled his trousers up and left the room with as much dignity as possible. After reaching his room, he stretched out on his stomach and thought longingly of his friends. This wasn’t the first time he’d been punished in such a manner, and it wasn’t going to be the last. He sighed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The winter holidays were hardly enjoyable for Alastor. He spent most of his time shut up in his room, with one of the house-elves bringing him food and other amenities. He could hardly wait for the holidays to be over and to escape his parents. At least Aurelius was too busy spending time with their cousins to bother Alastor much at Hogwarts. The two weeks seemed to drag by. Augustus and Calla went to Christmas parties almost every night during the week leading up to Christmas, which meant he and Aurelius had the manor to themselves. During these times he actually didn’t mind spending time with Aurelius. Aurelius usually arranged fine dinners for the both of them and Alastor was able to have a second helping if he wished, which wasn’t allowed when they dined with their parents. After dinner they usually spent hours in the sitting room reading together near the warmth of the fire or else they spent time up in the tower stargazing, which gave Alastor a chance to prepare for his Astronomy class. 

After Christmas, though, Augustus and Calla were home every night, and Alastor was required to spend the evenings in their company, even if all he was doing was completing the homework his professors had assigned over the holidays. They wanted him where they could see him. For New Year’s, Alastor’s parents hosted a party, which Aurelius was allowed to attend, but Alastor was ordered to stay in his room. Having no desire to even _see_ his parents’ friends, Alastor was quite content to stay in his room and finish up the last of his holiday assignments.

_Finally_ , it was time to return to school and Alastor looked forward to seeing his friends again. As he walked across the platform with the two trunks, the voice he recognized as belonging to Stewart’s sister shouted, “There he is, Stew! Right over there!”

Glancing around, Alastor smiled when he saw the other boy walking over, with his sister in tow. 

“Ahoy, mate.”

“Hello, Stew.” Alastor smiled as he shook the other boy’s hand in greeting, deciding not to even bother asking about the strange greeting Stewart had given him. “How were your holidays?”

Stewart grinned. “Great, as usual. What about yours?”

“Could’ve been better,” Alastor replied, wincing slightly as he remembered the last beating he’d gotten.

Stewart’s grin faded. “I’m sorry to hear that, mate.”

Alastor shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Stew.”

“Stew,” the girl tugged on Stewart’s hand. “You said you’d introduce us.”

“Boy!” Calla’s sharp voice prevented Alastor or Stewart saying anything. “Get those trunks on the train this instant!”

“Yes, Mother,” Alastor sighed and began heading over to the train once more.

Behind him, Stewart turned to his sister. “Poppy, you’ll have to wait to be introduced to Al, all right?”

She sighed and nodded. “All right.” She stared after the other boy for a moment before shaking her head and returning to where her parents were chatting with Griffith’s mother with Stewart.

This time, Rremly was the one to help Alastor get the trunks on the train. The other boy had just climbed aboard when Calla called, “Boy!”

Groaning, Alastor turned and walked over to where his mother was standing, her expression angry. “Yes, Mother?”

“What did your father tell you about associating with Hufflepuffs?” Calla asked, her voice sharp.

“Not to,” Alastor replied sullenly.

“Exactly,” Calla nodded, her eyes flashing. “Don’t forget it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Alastor was really beginning to dislike that phrase.

At her nod, he returned to the train and climbed aboard. “Hello, Al!”

“Hello, Percy,” Alastor smiled at the other boy. “Which compartment are we in?”

As he followed his friend down the train, he thought, _I won’t forget, but that doesn’t mean I’ll obey_.


	3. The Splendiferous Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor dreads the spring holiday, receives an invitation to stay with one of his friends, and receives an offer of help from his brother.

The next term flew by for Alastor. Aurelius basically left him alone, as did his fellow Slytherins. This was fine with Alastor. He wanted nothing to do with the politics and maneuverings of his House. Alastor spent his free time with his friends, roaming all over the castle and grounds. Rremly often insisted that the six of them study together and the only neutral place where they could was in the library. Studying together helped them all around because Belladonna, Percy, and Stewart were quite talented at Transfiguration and helped the others with it. Griffith, Percy, and Stewart were quite the ‘ _charmers_ ’, while Belladonna, Alastor and Stewart were all quite good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Potions was another class Belladonna, Alastor, and Stewart enjoyed while Percy took to Astronomy quite well. As for Rremly, he alone was proficient in all those subjects and was the only one who was able to stay awake or pay attention in History of Magic and was also the only one with a green thumb where Herbology was concerned.

During one such study session, Percy, Griffith, and Stewart sat by themselves at one table, _supposedly_ working on Charms, while Alastor and Rremly sat with Belladonna, working on Transfiguration. Alastor finally managed the transfiguration and began working on the essay that went with it. The three were startled when the other three plopped into the chairs on the other side of the table.

“Do you need help with Transfiguration?” Belladonna asked with a crooked smile, looking from Percy to Griffith to Stewart and back again. She clearly knew the answer would be in the negative.

“No,” Stewart shook his head.

“We have a question for Rrem,” Griffith added, smiling mischievously.

Rremly looked up from the essay he finishing up. “A History of Magic question?”

“Not that either,” Percy shook his head this time.

“Herbology?” Rremly raised an eyebrow.

Griffith shook his head as Stewart leaned forward across the table while Percy looked on with an easy smile. “We know that the entrance to the kitchens is near the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitories.”

“So, we were wondering if you happen to know the exact location of the kitchens,” Griffith continued.

Alastor and Belladonna looked at Rremly, who eyed the three boys across from him suspiciously. 

Belladonna asked the question that had to be on both Rremly’s and Alastor’s mind, “Why do you want to know? Do you have a little prank up your sleeve?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Stewart answered, shaking his head.

“No pranks, honest,” Percy added.

Belladonna smirked. “Right, and I’m the queen of England.”

Grinning, Stewart started singing: “ _God save our gracious queen!/Long live our noble queen!/God save the queen!_ ”

“Shut it!” Griffith covered his friend’s mouth with his hand. “Do you want to get us kicked out of the library?” Alastor didn’t quite see what Stewart did next, but Griffith’s reaction gave it away. “ _Bloody hell_ , Stew! Not so hard!”

Belladonna rolled her eyes while Alastor, Rremly, and Percy all covered their mouths to stifle their laughter, but the damage was done. The mild mannered librarian, Mr. Browning, appeared at the table. “If you boys can’t be quiet, you’ll have to leave.”

“Yes, Sir.” The boys waited until he’d gone before looking at each other. “Well, Rrem?”

Shaking his head in an amused sort of way, he replied, “All right, fine, let’s go.”

Whooping, Stewart and Griffith jumped up and raced for the door while Percy sauntered after. Alastor, Belladonna, and Rremly gathered up their books before following them.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Oy... I don't think I'm feeling so great... d'you think it might've been something I ate?” Stewart asked, wincing a little and turning his eyes to his friends, one of whom was also similarly wincing.

Both he and Griffith looked imploringly at the others, fully aware of the tiny smirk on Alastor’s face as well as the concern on Rremly’s. Percy, however, merely tutted and patted their shoulders. 

“Quite possibly,” was his response.

“It could have been the half-dozen éclairs you each ate,” Alastor added. “Or maybe the half-dozen cauldron cakes or the numerous biscuits.”

Percy teased, “You both really need to learn when to say no.”

Stewart and Griffith exchanged looks and groaned. “Maybe you two should go to the hospital wing.” Rremly suggested.

“Yes, Poppy,” Stewart replied, rolling his eyes.

Rremly looked puzzled while Griffith and Percy laughed. 

Stewart grinned, “That’s exactly what my sister, Poppy, would suggest.”

Alastor chuckled. “She sounds like a fussy thing.”

“Oh, she is,” Stewart confirmed with a nod. “Quite a little blighter, but with a heart of gold.”

Griffith swatted his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, Stew, let’s go to the hospital wing before all the food decides to come back up.”

“Right,” Percy agreed and helped steer them in that direction.

Alastor, Belladonna, and Rremly exchanged looks before following them. “Percy, would Poppy really say something like that?”

“Oh, yes,” Percy confirmed with a wink. “She knew at the ripe old age of six that she wanted to be a Healer.”

Stewart and Griffith had paused to let the others catch up. When they did, Stewart added, “You didn’t hear what she did when she was seven, did you, Percy?”

“No.” Percy shook his head. 

Stewart and Griffith exchanged grins. “I had a pretty bad cold when I was ten, so Poppy, to keep me from getting worse or giving it to our parents or her, locked me in my room and put up a sign on my door that said ‘ _Kwarenteen_ ’.” He spelled it out for them and they all chuckled. “She kept me in there for four days, and made sure I got food and drink, but that was the extent of it.” He grinned as he added, “I, of course, had a stash of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs to tide me over, and perhaps that’s why I’m so daffy today.”

As the boys laughed over the story, Alastor mused that the more he heard about Poppy, the more he wanted to know. Before he could think too much about it, though, they arrived at the hospital wing.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Mr. Moody? May I have a word?” Alastor glanced up at Professor Dumbledore and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” Waiting until the rest of the students had gone, Alastor approached Dumbledore’s desk. “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

The professor regarded him for a moment before speaking. “Indeed, I did, Mr. Moody.”

Alastor shifted slightly under the Dumbledore’s scrutiny. “About what, Sir?”

“You are a fine student, Mr. Moody,” Professor Dumbledore told him. “Perhaps my best yet.”

Alastor couldn’t help smiling at the compliment. “Thank you, Sir.”

The professor tutted, shaking his head. “No need to thank me, Mr. Moody.”

“I want to, Professor Dumbledore,” Alastor answered earnestly. “You’re the first to tell me something like that.”

Professor Dumbledore gazed at Alastor over the tops of the gold-rimmed half-moon spectacles perched on the bridge of his long, crooked nose, bright blue eyes piercing. “What of your father? Has he never given you a compliment?”

“No, Sir,” Alastor shook his head.

Alastor fidgeted once more under the professor’s piercing gaze. “I see. Very well. Now, off to lunch with you.”

Nodding, Alastor left the potions classroom and headed off to the Great Hall, his heart light for some reason.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The spring holidays began to approach and Alastor dreaded them. He would be under his parents’ constant scrutiny the whole week and it was a pretty sure bet that his father would hex him into next year, since he had yet to give up his friendships with Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly. He sighed gustily at the thought of the punishment that awaited him. 

“Al? Is something wrong?” Percy asked, breaking the silence.

“What?” Alastor blinked and looked around the library table at his friends. “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.”

Stewart looked skeptical. “C’mon, Al, we’re your friends. You can tell us.”

Alastor looked around at his friends once more. All five returned his gaze with varying degrees of curiosity and sympathy. “Well, I’m not looking forward to going home for the spring holidays.”

“How can you not look forward to it?” Griffith asked, looking puzzled, as the others exchanged looks that Alastor couldn’t quite decipher.

Alastor sighed again. “Home doesn’t feel like home. My family and I don’t get on well.”

“Don’t get on well?” Stewart asked the question this time, all five of them looking startled.

Alastor nodded reluctantly. “I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want you to think I’m looking for sympathy.”

“Welcome to the club,” Belladonna tossed out, her expression enigmatic.

The other boys looked between Belladonna and Alastor for a few moments before they returned to their studying. Feeling too uncomfortable to stay any longer, Alastor stood and left the library. The others followed shortly afterwards, talking amongst themselves in quiet voices.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Oy, Al! Wait up!” Stewart’s shout brought Alastor around to see the other boy running down the corridor towards him.

He waited until Stewart had come to a stop beside him, panting. “What did you want to talk about, Stew?”

“Read this.” Stewart shoved a piece of parchment into Alastor’s hand.

Puzzled, Alastor did as Stewart requested. It was a letter from Stewart’s parents to the boy. Alastor’s puzzlement turned to delight as he read it. “You’re serious, Stew? Your parents _want_ me to visit during the holidays?”

“Of course!” Stewart confirmed with a nod and his trademark daffy grin.

Alastor’s smile was the biggest Stewart had seen on the other boy. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” Stewart grinned himself as he shook Alastor’s hand. “Besides, this’ll give you a chance to meet Poppy, Ro, Jules, and Joss, since Griff and Percy live nearby and all that.”

Alastor nodded in agreement as they started down the corridor together. As they walked, though, a sudden thought wiped the smile from Alastor’s face. “Wait, Stew, _my_ parents might not agree to it.”

Stewart scratched his head. “Can’t you just owl them and ask?”

“It’s not that simple,” Alastor replied, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve seen the way Mother treats me in public.” Stewart nodded silently. “It’s the same at home.”

Stewart stopped dead, staring at Alastor. “You can’t be serious.”

“I _am_ serious, Stew,” Alastor told him quietly. “I’m fed and clothed, but that’s about the extent of the attention I get from my parents.”

A smooth voice commented from nearby, “I can help, Alastor.”

Blinking, the two boys turned to see a very familiar red haired third-year Slytherin leaning against the nearby wall. 

“You _want_ to help me, Aurelius?”

“Of course,” Aurelius straightened up and walked over to the two younger boys. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Alastor glanced at Stewart, who shrugged. Looking back at his brother, he asked, “What do you mean by help?”

“Well, I couldn’t help overhearing that you’ve been invited to spend the spring holidays elsewhere,” Aurelius answered, managing something close to a smile. “Nor could I help overhearing that you’re worried our parents will say no.”

Alastor nodded. “You overheard correctly, Aurelius.”

“So, I was thinking that I could convince Mother and Father that letting you spend the holidays with the Pomfreys would be best for you,” Aurelius explained, examining the nails of one hand. “Help you to expand your horizons and so forth.”

Alastor blinked. “You’re serious? You’re not just having me on?”

“Of course I’m serious, Alastor.” Aurelius looked surprised that his brother would doubt.

Alastor glanced at Stewart once again, who could only shrug. “Well, all right, then. Go ahead if you want.”

“Excellent,” Aurelius reached out and squeezed Alastor’s shoulder, a little harder than necessary, but he left before Alastor could speak up.

Rubbing his shoulder where Aurelius had squeezed it, Alastor watched his brother go. 

Stewart looked at him for a few moments. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?”

Alastor quickly dropped his hand. “No, nothing’s wrong with it at all.”

“Right,” Stewart sounded skeptical, but didn’t push the subject. “Well, let’s go get some dinner.”

Together, the two boys headed off to the Great Hall.


	4. Humiliation and Exultation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor's plans for the spring holidays go awry.

Alastor Moody was more excited than he’d ever been in his life. The spring holidays had arrived and he would be spending them with Stewart Pomfrey’s family. He’d finally get to meet Poppy, whom he’d heard so much about. He’d also be meeting Rolanda, Griffith’s younger sister. Though he’d already met Jules and Joss, Percy’s older brothers, and his cousins as well, he looked forward to spending time with them outside of Hogwarts. Rremly was spending the holidays with the Pomfreys, too; and the boys had made plans for some grand times together over the next week. Rremly had insisted that they plan some time to do the work assigned to them for the week. The others had made faces, but admitted it was a good idea.

Now, on the train ride to King’s Cross Station, Alastor was becoming nervous, a fact that was not unnoticed by the others. “Relax, Al, my parents will love you!”

“They won’t care that I’m Slytherin?” Alastor asked anxiously.

Stewart rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Which House you were Sorted into doesn’t matter to them, mate. You’re my friend, and that’s what counts.”

“My parents _do_ care what House my friends are in,” Alastor muttered, glancing over at Percy and Griffith, who were playing Exploding Snap by the window. Rremly was reading, as usual, while Belladonna polished her wand.

Stewart, who was sitting across from Alastor, leaned forward. “What was that, Al? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Never mind, Stew,” Alastor spoke more loudly than he intended, drawing the attention of the others.

Abandoning the cards, Griffith and Percy sat down with Alastor and Stewart. “What’s wrong?”

“Al is worried that my parents won’t like him because he’s a Slytherin,” Stewart explained as Rremly marked his place in his book and set it aside.

Griffith gave an exasperated sigh. “Mate, you worry too much.” 

“I second that,” was Belladonna’s reply.

“Everything will be fine,” Rremly piped up encouragingly, though there was something in his eyes that seemed to communicate that he somehow knew better.

Alastor looked from one friendly face to another, a smile slowly appearing on his own face. “You’re right. I don’t need to worry.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Rremly announced quietly.

They all scrambled out of their robes and into Muggle clothes before jumping down and going to the luggage van for their trunks. Chatting amongst themselves, they followed Stewart over to where his family waited with Griffith’s, Percy’s, and Rremly’s. Belladonna said a quick goodbye before dashing over to her mother, who was so pale that it appeared she never caught sun in all her life. Alastor didn’t see his own family, but didn’t much care. The less he saw of them, the better. Just as Stewart was about to introduce him to Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey, Calla’s strident voice reached their ears. 

“Alastor Adelais Moody! What do you think you’re doing?”

Fighting the urge to cringe, he turned towards his mother, his eyes automatically seeking the floor. “I’m going to spend the holidays at Liddell, with Stewart’s family, Mother.”

“And just _where_ did you get an idea like that?” Calla asked.

Risking a glance up at her face, he saw that she was very angry. A movement at her side caught Alastor’s eye and he noticed that Aurelius had an odd look on his face. “Er, they invited me and--”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to go, Boy,” she answered coldly. “Now come along!”

Feeling wretched and humiliated, Alastor glanced apologetically over his shoulder at the other boys, who all had looks of confusion, surprise, and disgust on their faces. Sighing, Alastor turned and followed his mother and brother from the train station, towing his own trunk and Aurelius’s behind him. This was _not_ a good start to his spring holiday.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

That evening, his pride sore as well as his bottom, Alastor banged on his brother’s bedroom door. 

“Come in.”

“How could you do this to me, Aurelius?” Alastor demanded of his brother. “You promised you would talk to Mother and Father.”

Aurelius raised an eyebrow at Alastor. “I _did_ talk to them, Alastor. They said no.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” demanded Alastor, fighting back tears as he remembered how humiliated he’d felt earlier.

Aurelius looked puzzled. “I’m sure I did, Alastor.”

“You didn’t,” Alastor shot back, doing his best to control his emotions.

“Oh,” Aurelius looked upset. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to go through what you did today.”

Alastor sniffed, somewhat mollified. “All right, then. Just make sure you tell me next time, please, Aurelius?”

Aurelius spared a slight smile and nodded. “All right.”

Nodding back, Alastor returned to his room and wrote an owl to Stewart.

_Stew,_

_Talked to my brother. He said he’d talked to our parents, but they’d said no. He thought he’d told me, but I guess he forgot to. Sorry about the mix-up. Apologize to your parents for me, too, please? I’ll see you on the train back to school._

_Alastor_

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The spring holidays were absolute misery for Alastor. The thought that he’d been so close to spending the holidays with his friends haunted his every waking moment. In an effort to distract himself, he did the homework that had been assigned for the holidays, even going so far as to check and double-check his answers. When he had done all he could in terms of homework, he pulled out his schoolbooks and began to read ahead. By the time Calla took Alastor and Aurelius to King’s Cross at the end of the holidays, he was a good one ahead in his classes. 

“Al!”

“Hi, Stew!” Alastor called back, waving at his friend.

He started over to where Stewart waited, but Calla drew him up short, “Boy!”

“Yes, Mother?” He turned back to her reluctantly.

Before she could begin lecturing him, a smooth, baritone voice inserted itself. “Ah, Mrs. Moody, hello.”

“Who are you?” Calla asked with quiet suspicion as Alastor looked up into the kind blue eyes of the man he recognized as Stewart’s father.

The kind eyes moved from his to look at Calla. “Forgive me, I’m Patrick Pomfrey.”

“Patrick Pomfrey?” she repeated, not offering her hand to be kissed. “I don’t believe the name is familiar.”

Alastor glanced at Stewart, who was standing at his father’s side. The other boy shrugged. “Well, my boy, Stewart, is friends with your son, Alastor.”

“He is?” Calla blinked and looked down at Stewart as Mr. Pomfrey placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Oh, yes.”

Alastor stifled a laugh at his mother’s discomfiture. “I’m very sorry that Alastor was unable to spend the spring holidays with us. Might he be allowed to spend a month or so with us during the summer?”

“The summer?” Calla repeated yet again.

Alastor was stunned. Spend the summer holidays with his friends? Mr. Pomfrey _had_ to be joking! Glancing up at the man, Alastor noted the friendly smile on his face. 

“Yes, Mrs. Moody. Spend the summer with Stewart and his other friends.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s out of the question,” Calla replied firmly.

Alastor felt his stomach drop. Gathering his courage, he asked, “It’s because of Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly, isn’t it, Mother?”

“Don’t ask questions, Boy,” Calla told him with a biting frost to her quiet voice.

A voice Alastor recognized as belonging to Stewart’s sister piped up, “Why do you call him ‘Boy’? He has a name.”

“Poppy, hush,” the woman’s voice was just as sweet as the girl’s, Alastor thought as he looked up at Stewart’s mother.

Calla studied the newcomers with some impatience. “Your wife and daughter, Sir?”

“Yes,” Patrick replied, sounding proud. “Iris and Poppy.”

The girl was holding her mother’s hand and looked curiously up at Calla. “Hello, Mrs. Moody.”

“Mrs. Pomfrey,” Calla returned the other woman’s greeting stiffly, clearly annoyed.

After a tense silence, Mrs. Pomfrey asked, “Pat, did you ask Mrs. Moody if Alastor could spend part of his summer with us?”

“He did, Madam, and I already gave my answer: no.” Calla’s voice was cold.

Alastor looked pleadingly up at the other two adults. He didn’t want to spend the whole summer the way he had just spent the last week! 

“Mrs. Moody, please be reasonable. It will be beneficial to everyone.”

“How?” asked Calla shortly.

Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey exchanged looks. “Well, your son will meet other children and learn to play with them nicely. Secondly, you and your husband will learn to let go of him. Thirdly, he seems like a nice and perfectly well-mannered boy and we would love for him to spend part of his summer with us.”

“Well,” Calla actually looked like she was softening, just briefly, before she grew impatient again. “I suppose it can’t hurt him.” It appeared that she did not wish to argue further and run the risk of embarrassing herself.

Alastor felt like whooping and jumping for joy, but restrained himself to smiling broadly and saying, “Thank you, Mother.”

“You’re welcome, B--Alastor,” she answered stiffly.

A glance at Stewart told Alastor that the other boy was quite happy with how things had worked out. “Come along, Stewart, you’ll miss the train.”

“Go on,” Calla told Alastor when the boy remained by her side.

Flashing her a dazzling smile, he ran off to join Stewart and his family.


	5. Counting Down ‘Til Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor looks forward to spending summer with his friends and navigates through fluctuating grades. Also in which Hufflepuff wins the Quidditch and House Cups.

The next term seemed to fly by to Alastor. His grades suffered somewhat because he was looking forward to spending part of his summer holiday with Stewart’s family. He was happier than he’d ever been before. Though he didn’t realize until he was older that he’d been starved for affection all through his childhood and his friendship with the others fed that starvation. With that need partially sated, he longed for it to be fully sated, and so made attempts to receive affection from his parents and brother. The barest hint of such a thing from any of the three caused Alastor’s heart to rejoice. Aurelius seemed to be treating him better without the prompting of any overtures on Alastor’s part. As for his parents, Alastor wrote home to tell them that Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly would _not_ be at the Pomfreys during the summer holidays in an attempt to gain attention from them. This was, of course, an outright lie and didn’t sit well with him, but his yearning for affection overrode his natural honesty. 

“Mr. Moody?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Alastor shook himself from his thoughts and looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who was standing beside him. “Did you say something?”

The potions professor bent down so he could speak in a voice meant only for Alastor’s ears. “You’re not focusing on your potion like you should. If you’re not more careful, you could hurt someone.”

“Oh.” Alastor could feel his face growing warm as he looked down at his potion. It looked nothing like it was supposed to. “Right, I’ll pay better attention, Sir.”

The professor didn’t move away. “Please stay after, Mr. Moody. I would like to speak with you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Alastor replied, beginning to determine what he needed to add to the potion to fix it.

Straightening up, Professor Dumbledore moved away, observing other students’ potions as he went. When the bell rang to end the class, Alastor approached the professor’s desk. 

“Have a seat, Mr. Moody.”

Alastor sat down, fidgeting with his books. “What did you wish to speak with me about, Professor?”

“Your grades have been slipping since the start of the term, Mr. Moody,” Professor Dumbledore replied, gazing at the boy over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. “They are still quite good, but not to your usual standards.”

Alastor looked down at his lap, vaguely wondering why Professor Dumbledore’s quietly-voiced statement stung more than any number of punishments from his father. 

“I know, Sir.”

“Why is that, Mr. Moody?” asked the professor, his bright blue gaze keen. “Has something happened at home?”

Alastor shook his head. “No, Sir, nothing’s happened at home.”

“Something else, then?” Alastor was surprised to realize there was genuine concern in the professor’s voice.

Alastor hesitated, wondering how to explain. Finally, he decided to be honest. “It’s because I’m looking forward to the summer holidays.”

“You wish to return home that much?” Professor Dumbledore looked surprised.

“No, Sir, not _exactly_ ,” Alastor replied, wondering how much he should tell the Potions professor.

Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, pressing the tips of his long fingers together. “Then why are you looking forward to the summer holidays so much that your grades are slipping?”

“Well, I’ll be visiting with Stewart Pomfrey’s family,” Alastor reluctantly told the professor.

The Potions professor studied Alastor for a long moment. “I see. Well, you’d best be off to lunch.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rising, Alastor left the potions classroom, wondering why it seemed easy to talk with his Potions professor. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

After his talk with Professor Dumbledore, Alastor made an effort to focus on his classes. When he and the other five gathered to ‘lark about’, they ended up studying more often than not. As the weather was looking so nice, they would go outside and study by the lake. Sometimes they would share stories about their families. Both Belladonna and Alastor never did, but the others made up for it. 

“So what did Rolanda do next, Griff?”

“Well, since Mum had locked Ro’s bedroom door, she climbed out the window and down the tree and wandered off to go play with Poppy,” Griffith answered Rremly’s question, grinning broadly at the memory. “When Stew’s mum brought Ro home that evening, Mum was furious.”

The boys laughed with Griffith. Belladonna merely smirked and Alastor shook his head as he idly turned a page in his potions textbook. 

“She sounds like a feisty one, Griff.”

“Oh, she is, Al,” Stewart answered for his friend. “So’s Poppy.”

Alastor shook his head as he stared blindly at his textbook, pondering over his newfound friends. Stewart was quite daffy, adored all things eccentric and strange, and was quite fond of singing, humming, or whistling ‘ _God Save the Queen_ ’ and other ridiculously silly songs. Griffith couldn’t seem to sit still and often tapped his foot, drummed his fingers, or bobbed his head to some tune only he could hear, talked endlessly about Quidditch and how he wanted to join the Gryffindor team as a Beater. Percy was the consummate charmer with his winning smile who loved to recite scenes from his favourite plays- and he had a _particular_ fondness for two muggle playwrights called William Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde. Rremly was, well, Alastor had heard the girls describe him as a ‘ _sweetheart_ ’, whatever that was; he always had a smile and a chocolate frog ready for his friends. Except when they had upset stomachs, of course- then it was some soup. Belladonna was remarkably tough and forthright for a girl their age, and she was _more_ than capable of taking care of herself. As for Alastor himself, he struggled sometimes just to keep calm. 

“Al?”

“Hm?” He looked up from the textbook when he heard Rremly speak.

The others were studying him with varying degrees of concern. 

“You all right?” Percy asked.

“Of course I am,” he replied, looking from one face to the next. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Looks were exchanged among the other five. 

“That was a rather hefty sigh you gave there. Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, Stew,” Alastor assured the other boy, letting a smile curve his mouth slightly. “Why don’t you share another story about Poppy? Like that ‘ _Kwarenteen_ ’ one?”

Both Percy and Griffith laughed at the memory. 

Stewart grinned, “All right, then. If you tell her I told you this story, I’ll serenade you with ‘ _Rule Britannia_ ’.”

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell Poppy where the story came from,” Alastor replied, his smile growing.

Chuckling, Stewart told his captive audience about a time when his parents took Stewart and Poppy to see their Aunt Brenna in the hospital, because she’d been injured in a Quidditch game, playing for the _Appleby Arrows_. Poppy had wandered off after visiting with Brenna and, when Stewart and his parents realized she was gone, they got worried and went looking for her. They eventually found her in one of the private wards, chatting away with one of the patients--an old grandmotherly type--as well as fluffing the old lady’s pillow and singing a sweet little ditty to her. 

“She was acting like a Healer-in-training,” Stewart concluded with a grin.

The others laughed and Alastor asked, “Was this before or after she decided she was going to be a Healer?”

“Before,” Stewart replied, grinning.

As it was almost time for dinner, they gathered up their books and headed for the castle. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The rest of the term passed quickly. Alastor applied himself to his studies and managed to perform well on his exams. Professor Dumbledore commended him on his Potions score, commenting, “It would appear you are focusing better, Mr. Moody.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Alastor smiled up at the Potions Professor and left the room. It felt like he was floating on air.

Before they knew it, the Leaving Feast had arrived and it was time to announce the winner of the House Cup. “In first place with four hundred and sixty-five points, Hufflepuff.” The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheering as black and yellow decorations appeared including a black badger on a canary yellow background on the wall behind the staff table. “Hufflepuff wins the House Cup.”

Alastor couldn’t help cheering for Rremly and noticed that Percy, Griffith, and Belladonna were cheering from the Gryffindor table while Stewart and Felix cheered from Ravenclaw. As he tried to wave at Rremly, which was hard because of all the whooping and hollering that was still taking place, Alastor didn’t notice that his brother, whom he no longer sat beside at the table, was giving him a rather odd look. All Alastor cared about was the fact that the Hufflepuffs, who rarely got any glory, had managed to win both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup. It seemed the Albrecht twins were of the same mind- clapping and whistling, all smiles. He suddenly wondered why he’d never tried to get to know the twins.


	6. Liddell and Willow House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor _finally_ gets to stay over with the Pomfrey family.

Alastor stared out the train window, a warm glow of happiness suffusing his entire being. He would be spending the first month of the summer holidays with Stewart and his family. Rremly would be there, too, and even Belladonna would be around as she was to stay with Percy and his family. The six would most likely be inseparable during their time together. However, as King’s Cross Station grew steadily nearer, Alastor became more anxious. What if his mother had changed her mind? What if she dragged him away from his friends? He began to fidget, drawing the attention of the others. 

“Al, relax. My parents already like you.”

“It’s not that, Stew,” Alastor replied, forcing himself to stop fidgeting. “I don’t want to be humiliated again.”

Stewart and Griffith, who’d been playing Exploding Snap, exchanged sympathetic looks. “I don’t blame you, Al, but you were there when your Mum said yes. I doubt she’s going to change her mind at the last minute.”

“Thanks, Stew.” Alastor smiled at his friend.

Stewart smiled back. “You’re welcome, mate.”

“ _Would_ your mum change her mind?” Percy asked thoughtfully from where he and Rremly were looking over chocolate frog cards and comparing what each had. Belladonna, however, sat on Percy’s other side enjoying a Licorice Wand, though she, too, looked at Alastor- her face inscrutable. 

Alastor shrugged. “I really don’t know. She’s never let me stay at a friend’s home before.” In a softer voice, he added, “It wasn’t as if I had any friends in the first place.”

“What was that?” Stewart asked, grinning. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

Alastor mock-glared at his friend, having relaxed a little. “Never mind, Stew.”

“We’re here,” Rremly announced quietly.

The six changed into Muggle clothes (in Percy’s case, stylishly _posh_ Muggle clothes) and collected their trunks from the luggage van before exiting the train. Chattering like a bunch of magpies, they made their way over to where the Pomfrey, Hooch, Lockley, and Redgrave families were waiting. 

“Alastor!”

“Yes, Mother?” He turned to look at her.

Her eyes flicked towards the gathered families before looking down at him. “Remember your manners. Always say please and thank you. We don’t want others thinking the Moody family are uncivilized.”

“Yes, Mother.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief. “May I go?”

She looked at him sharply, but nodded all the same. “Yes, Boy.”

“Thank you, Mother.” His nervousness gone, Alastor turned to rejoin his friends. He didn’t see Aurelius watching him with narrowed eyes.

The others were talking excitedly amongst themselves when Alastor joined them, feeling shy among so many strangers. “Mum, Da, this is Alastor Moody. Al, my parents, Patrick and Iris Pomfrey.”

“Stew, aren’t we forgetting someone?” The girl, obviously Poppy, asked, head tilted to one side, her tawny hair turning more golden, rather like her mother’s.

Stewart grinned. “I don’t think so. Do you, Poppy?”

“Stewart Alden Pomfrey, might I remind you that I can still quarantine you even if you _aren’t_ sick?” she shot back. Alastor couldn’t quite stifle an amused chuckle. Poppy turned to him. “I'm glad you find this amusing, as you'll be seeing a lot of this sort of thing at our home. I'm Poppy by the way, as my dear prat of a brother has quite forgotten his manners." She smiled brightly, extending her hand to Alastor.

He took her hand and gallantly kissed the back of it. “A pleasure, Poppy, I’m sure.”

“Excuse me, Al, but there’s more people for you to meet,” Griffith interrupted, grinning cheekily. “Mum, Sis, this is Alastor Moody. Al, my mum, Julianna Hooch, and my little sis, Rolanda.”

The girl, her dirty blonde, her wavy hair bobbed, her eyes a startling shade of yellow, shoved Griffith. “Little, eh?”

“Yes, little,” Griffith returned, shoving her back.

Mrs. Hooch, a tall, lean woman with short spikey hair and yellow eyes, laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Griff, what have I told you?”

“Not to shove Ro because she’s my sister,” he answered, sighing heavily.

Rolanda stuck her tongue out at her brother and he stuck his out back. “Griffith, Rolanda, that’s enough.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor smiled up at Mrs. Hooch before holding his hand out to Rolanda. When the girl placed her hand in his, he kissed the back of it, as he had Poppy’s.

She made a face as she pulled her hand back and wiped it on her skirt. “Eugh, gross.”

“Rolanda Peregrin Hooch!” Mrs. Hooch’s voice made the girl flinch. “Not another word out of you until we get home, is that clear?”

Rolanda nodded, looking somewhat ashamed. 

“Come on, Al, time for you to meet my family.” Percy stifled a laugh and tugged both Alastor and Belladonna over to where his parents, brothers, cousins, aunts, and uncles gathered. 

“Everyone this is Belladonna Breedlove and Alastor Moody. Mates, these are my parents, Sylvius and Pandora, my uncle Godffrey Lockhart, and my aunt Luna Lockwood,” and here Percy winked, “and you of course know my brothers and cousins already.”

They had, indeed, met Percy’s brothers—Julian and Josselyn—as well as his cousins, Viatrix & Lucilla Lockhart, and Juno Lockwood. 

Belladonna actually managed a smile for Mr. and Mrs. Lockley, and did her best to be at least a _little_ ladylike and polite. “Hello,” she said. “I’m pleased to meet you. Thank you very much for having me over.”

“Hello.” Alastor nodded to Percy’s parents, musing that Mr. Lockley was rather sophisticated with his slightly curled shoulder length barley coloured hair, bright piercing blue eyes, and his narrow pointed nose. He also had to admit to himself that, looking upon Mrs. Lockley, he’d never seen such an elegant and beautiful woman in all his life. She had long curled golden hair that was swept back into a loose bun and kept in place by a stunning antique silver hair comb dotted with amethyst and topped with peacock feathers, drawing out the blue-green of her eyes. She had a stunning sculpted face and her lips were full.

Percy’s aunt, Mrs. Lockwood, was similarly stunning with her _longer_ than long wavy silvery-blond hair, ice blue eyes, and finely pointed features, while her daughter, Juno, looked as though she was inheriting her beauty. Even Mr. Lockhart looked remarkably handsome, sky blue eyes drawn out on account of his short sleek strawberry-blond hair. His face was thin, but pleasingly so, and his daughters Viatrix and Lucilla appeared to be taking after him. He also knew, without a doubt, that when Percy and his brothers grew older, they’d be just as handsome as their father.

Belladonna nudged him discreetly, bringing him back from his momentary staring. Alastor nearly blushed, and the families all smiled. Clearly they found him pleasantly amusing.

“Percy’s told us all about you,” Mr. Lockley said, eyes twinkling. “We find we’d rather like to get to know you better.”

Mrs. Lockley smiled, seemingly in perfect agreement with her husband. “If you’d ever like to visit, please don’t hesitate to tell us. We’d be more than happy to have you.”

Poor Alastor could hardly think of a thing to say except, “Thank you.” 

A tugging on Alastor’s hand reminded him that he had one more family to meet. “Come on, Al.”

Alastor laughed as he allowed himself to be towed over to where Rremly’s family waited patiently. “All right, all right.”

“Mum, Dad, this is Alastor Moody. Al, these are my parents, Edmund and Minna Redgrave. You already know Holden.”

Alastor nodded. “Hello.” 

Mr. Redgrave was a man of average height, fine light-brown hair, and sky blue eyes, and appeared very much at home in tweeds. Mrs. Redgrave, just slightly shorter than her husband, had voluminous shoulder-length hazel hair and light-blue eyes and seemed very comfortable in her pleasant light yellow summer dress. They gave off a comforting warmth and seemed so natural and down to earth. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t kiss Mrs. Lockley’s and Mrs. Lockwood’s hands.” Holden mused with a grin.

Alastor looked sheepish and suddenly worried. “Should I have?” He asked, suddenly wondering if he’d made some kind of faux-pas.

Holden couldn’t help a laugh, himself. He smiled and clapped Alastor on the shoulder. “You were fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Well, shall we go now?” Mr. Pomfrey asked.

Unable to stop smiling--not that he _wanted_ to--Alastor left platform 9¾ with his friends and their families, even if he hadn’t been able to meet Belladonna’s sad looking, pale-faced, rail thin mother.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Welcome to _Willow House_ , Al.” Stewart gestured dramatically to indicate the two-story cottage.

Though extremely smaller than the mansion Alastor had grown up in, it somehow seemed to be more welcoming than _Moody Manor_. Shaking his head, he followed Stewart into the cottage, vaguely aware that Poppy was behind him. Upon entering, he found himself in a small sitting room, decorated in plum and white: white wicker seats and a plum-colored sofa. Irises and orchids decorated the walls and so on. Through the door on the left was the dining room and kitchen, matching the sitting room in terms of colors and motifs. Through a door on the right, he spotted a lavatory and guest room. Near the door on the right was a small stairwell with _real_ vines growing up the balustrade. To the left of the railing, there was a stained glass door that opened onto a small little balcony, complete with two wicker chairs, with wind chimes, and hanging wisteria at strategic points. Up at the top of the stairs were three bedrooms. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” he replied, smiling at the little girl.

She smiled brightly up at him, but Stewart’s voice prevented a reply on her part. “I hope you don’t mind that you and Rrem will be sharing the guest room, Al.”

“Not at all, Stew,” Alastor replied. “After all, I _do_ share a room with four other boys at school.”

Stewart nodded. “Good point. C’mon, do let’s go outside and play. The others are there already.”

“All right.” Grinning happily, Alastor allowed Stewart to tow him out into the backyard, with Poppy tagging along behind the two. It was a wide expanse of pastureland with a small garden and an orchard. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.


	7. Summertime Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is summer and fun is had.

When Alastor awoke the next morning, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, but he didn’t panic. It took less than a heartbeat for him to remember where he was: _Willow House_ , the Pomfrey house in Liddell, a pleasant little village in Hampshire. Rremly still slept in the other bed, his tousled brown hair all Alastor could see of him. Content to stay snuggled under his covers for a few more minutes, Alastor let his gaze wander the room.

The covers of both beds and the carpet were all a deep, rich purple. The walls were whitewashed, with a cherry wood nightstand between the two beds and a mirror on the wall above it. Two paintings hung on the walls above the beds. Over Alastor’s was a view of the orchard, with different birds flying in and out of it. The one over Rremly’s was a view of the pastureland: a wide expanse of rolling hills, whose grass moved in the wind and the lone willow tree’s leaves swished in the breeze. In the wall directly across from the nightstand was the closet, with slender double doors that opened out. Though it looked small, it had been enchanted to accommodate whatever was put into it, and one could walk right into it without a problem.

To the left of the closet and right across from Alastor’s bed, was a small writing desk. The door leading to the hallway--and the rest of the house--was to the left of Alastor’s bed. To the right of the closet, directly across from Rremly’s bed, was a bookshelf. The only window in the room was between Rremly’s bed and the bookshelf. Drawn to it, Alastor got up and padded over to lean on the windowsill and look out into the orchard. Mr. Pomfrey and Poppy were up and dressed already, picking apples. She was perched in one of the trees, picking apples and tossing them down to her father willy-nilly. Their laughter floated to him on the summer breeze that blew through the window.

Without warning, the door was thrown open and a small hurricane named Stewart Pomfrey burst into the room, startling Alastor and waking Rremly. Stewart sang:

_God save our gracious Queen,_  
Long live our noble Queen,  
God save the Queen;  
Send her victorious,  
Happy and glorious,  
Long to reign over us,  
God save the Queen.   
Oh Lord our God arise,  
Scatter our enemies,  
And make them fall  
Confound their politics  
Frustrate their knavish tricks,  
On Thee our hopes we fix  
Oh save us all. 

He was prevented from continuing due to the fact that Rremly had seized a pillow and thrown it at Stewart.

“Oy! That’s not bloody fair! I come in to serenade you and you throw a pillow at me!”

“Stew, did it ever occur to you that some of us _like_ to sleep in?” Rremly asked, his voice slightly scratchy from sleep as he tried to smooth his tousled hair.

Alastor was too busy laughing to pay much attention to anything, and was thus unprepared to have a pillow thrown his way. 

“Oy!”

“Pillow fight!” Stewart whooped, proceeding to grab a pillow from Alastor’s bed and jump onto Rremly’s, and thumping Rremly with it.

Letting out a laugh, Rremly seized the other pillow from his bed and began to retaliate. After only a moment, Alastor grabbed the pillow by his feet and joined the fray, whooping and hollering. The appearance of Mrs. Pomfrey several minutes later stopped the three of them. Alastor glanced at the other two boys, unsure of what to do. Stewart was grinning and Rremly was taking the opportunity to catch his breath. She calmly walked over to Alastor’s bed, picked up the remaining pillow, threw it right at her son—toppling him over—and with a smile said, “When you're all finished with your game, do come and attend breakfast like the civilized handsome young men you are.” With a wink, she turned and left the room. 

Alastor glanced at the other two. “Breakfast?”

“Food!” Stewart tossed his pillow aside and ran from the room.

Exchanging looks, Alastor and Rremly changed as quickly as they could and headed for the kitchen, to find the other four already seated at the table. They slid into the two empty chairs at the table, Rremly beside Stewart and Alastor beside Poppy. He couldn’t help grinning a little. This was a great start to the summer holidays.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The six of them were just finishing up when there was a knock at the front door. 

“Stew? Would you get the door please?”

“Tallyho, Dad!” Stewart bounced out of his seat and into the front room.

This confused Alastor. The first-born wasn’t supposed to answer doors. That fell to younger children. He glanced at the girl sitting beside him. Well, maybe Stewart had been asked because he had a younger sister, but no younger brother. Alastor nodded to himself and resumed finishing off his breakfast, which was really quite delicious. 

“Al?”

“Yes, Poppy?” He looked down at her and couldn’t help smiling. She looked so sweet and innocent, but he remembered the imp throwing apples hither and yon for her father to chase down.

She studied him for a moment, her gray eyes boring into his brown ones. “Would you like some more?”

“No, thank you,” he answered, his smile broadening.

Mrs. Pomfrey commandeered his attention. “Is it not good?”

“Oh, no, Mrs. Pomfrey,” Alastor hastily replied. “It’s quite delicious. I’m just not used to eating so much in one sitting.”

“I see.” She nodded as she flicked her wand and sent his plate over to the sink, her smile very understanding. 

“Al! Rrem!” Stewart re-entered the kitchen with Griffith, Percy, and Belladonna close behind. “Let’s go!”

Though puzzled, Alastor let himself be pulled from his seat at the table and out the back door. “Go where?”

“The _secret_ place,” Stewart told him in a mysterious whisper, a daffy grin on his face. “Only Griff, Percy, Rrem, and I know about it, but now you and Bella will, too.”

Percy nodded as the six of them trotted down the slope leading to the pasture. “Yes, we showed it to Rrem when he stayed over the spring holidays. Really wish you could have stayed, too.”

“So do I,” Alastor murmured, but the trio, acting rather boisterous because of the summer day, didn’t seem to hear it. Only Rremly and Belladonna noticed. None questioned him about it, at least, for which he was glad. Rremly just wrapped his arm around him as they walked, while Belladonna patted him briefly on the shoulder.

They romped their way across the pasture: racing each other, leap-frogging over one another, and generally just being boys, as Belladonna was just as boyish as the rest of them. Alastor had never felt so alive.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The days passed quickly, with the six spending most romping and playing outside, sometimes joined by Percy’s brothers and cousins. Poppy and Rolanda would often tag along after the boys, and they seemed to really like Belladonna. What surprised Alastor was that no one minded! In fact, they were _encouraged_ to tag along. If one of the girls happened to lag behind, one of the others would go back and offer the girl a piggyback ride. It wasn’t always the girl’s brother who would give her a piggyback ride, either. Percy, Stewart, and Griffith treated Poppy and Ro like sisters. Even Rremly and Belladonna gave a piggyback ride more than once. Alastor wasn’t sure if he should or not, but one afternoon, Poppy lagged behind and Alastor was the only one who noticed. He glanced from Poppy, to the others’ retreating backs, and back again. 

Coming to a decision, he walked back to Poppy and asked, “Want a piggyback ride?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled brilliantly up at him. With only a little scrambling and one false start, they headed off after the others. “Thanks, Al.”

He smiled. “There’s no need to thank me, Poppy.”

“I must be awfully heavy, though,” she commented, her breath tickling his ear.

He shook his head. “Not at all. I could carry you all day.”

“You might have to.” Though her voice was soft, he heard what she said anyway because her mouth was next to his ear.

He waited a few beats before asking, “And why would that be?”

She waited so long before answering that he wondered if she would. Finally, she replied, “I think I sprained my ankle.”

“Perhaps I should take you back to the house so your mum can take a look?” he suggested, making to turn back.

Her grip tightened around his neck. “No, if you could just carry me...?”

“As long as you promise to let me take you to your mum once we get back,” he answered firmly.

He felt her nod. “I promise.”

“All right, then, on we go.” He continued after the others.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

It turned out that Poppy _had_ sprained her ankle. She was forced to stay off it for a few days, but the others catered to her every whim so eagerly that she was never bored. The others were more than willing to give her piggyback rides if she wanted them and all seven of them were happy to fetch and carry for her. Alastor was fascinated by the sweet way she accepted the attentions of her brother and friends and thanked each of them. 

Stewart would often entertain his sister with wonderful mad-cap stories, or sing silly songs to pass the time. Griffith would joke and perform silly dances as Stewart sang to make Poppy laugh. Percy was happy to read to Poppy for hours on end, his voice soothing and lyrical as he recited sonnets, poems, and plays. Rolanda would bring her friend flowers or berries from the fields around the three houses, often scratched and juice-stained from her efforts. Rremly would bring Poppy food and drink, offering her a shy smile and pat her hand, shoulder, or back comfortingly. Belladonna often came and talked about their latest shenanigans and was more than happy to show off any scratches on her arms or legs as well as any and all tears on her pants (she adamantly refused to wear skirts or dresses). Alastor himself was content to merely spend time with her, talking about anything and everything. He would sit near her during the stories, listening quietly, and watching. 

His favorite part of his time with the Pomfreys arrived every Sunday afternoon. As they had their tea, Stewart and Poppy would entertain the rest of them by singing or playing instruments: Stewart with violin or piano and Poppy with her flute. Sometimes, Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey would join in playing cello and harp, respectively. All four had wonderful voices and Alastor seemed to just soak the music up. More than once, he’d fallen asleep to the sound of singing or music playing and woke to the sound of Stewart singing ‘God Save the Queen’ at the top of his lungs. 

Overall, it was a wonderful month and Alastor was sad to see it come to an end.


	8. Home, Sad Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor suffers the consequences.

When his month with the Pomfreys was up, Alastor and the others came into Willow House for lunch to find Augustus waiting in the kitchen, looking quite displeased. Alastor stopped short when he saw his father, the smile on his face fading rapidly. 

“Hello, Father.”

“Hello, B--Alastor,” August answered, his voice cold. “Get your things, it’s time to go home.”

Alastor nodded before going into the guest room. He quickly gathered his things and bundled them into his trunk, inwardly shaking. His father was not happy with him and it would not be wise to antagonize him. While he was double-checking all the nooks and crannies of the room to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind, Rremly came in. 

“Al?”

“Yes, Rrem?” Alastor asked, carefully tucking the book of plays Percy had given to him into his trunk.

“Is it really bad for you?” Rremly asked after hesitating a moment. “At your home?”

Alastor shrugged, not looking at his friend. “It’s not _real_ bad.”

“But it’s not _good_ either,” the other boy commented quietly; having heard what Alastor had _not_ said.

Alastor sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right.”

“Is there anything the rest of us can do?” Rremly offered quietly.

Alastor nodded as he shut his trunk, and then look at his friend. “Write to me.”

“Of course! A promise then,” Rremly replied, nodding, that sweet smile on his face again.

At that moment, Augustus entered the room, looking angry. “Boy, what’s taking you so long?”

“Nothing, Father,” Alastor answered quickly. “I just finished packing.”

Augustus glanced at the trunk briefly. “Come along, then.”

“Yes, Father.” Alastor grabbed one end of his trunk and followed his father from the room.

When he felt the other end of the trunk being lifted, he glanced over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw that Rremly was carrying the other end.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

As soon as the family house-elf, Lolo, had taken Alastor’s trunk, Augustus grabbed Alastor’s upper arm and towed him into the study. He released Alastor’s arm with a jerk, sending him crashing to the floor. 

“You said the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff wouldn’t be there.”

“Well, they weren’t _supposed_ to be there,” Alastor replied, slowly getting to his feet.

Augustus backhanded Alastor, the ring with the Moody family crest on his middle finger breaking his nose. “You should have left when you realized they were there.”

“No, Father.” Alastor glared defiantly up at his father, ignoring the acute pain radiating from his nose and cheek. “They’re my _friends_.”

He found himself on the floor again, his other cheek throbbing, but not broken. “Find new friends.”

“I can’t change my friends as easily as I can change my socks,” Alastor told his father quietly, but firmly.

Augustus glared down at his son before pointing at the desk, “Trousers down, hands on desk.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Oh, Master Al, why do you do this?” Lolo asked as he tended to Alastor’s broken nose.

Alastor winced slightly as the bone mended. “I have no choice, Lolo. I can’t give up friendships on a whim.”

“But Master Al should try to please Master Moody,” Lolo counseled, switching to the bruised cheek. “Like Master Aurie does.”

Alastor made a sound of annoyance. “Aurelius, _always_ Aurelius.”

“Should Lolo punish himself?” Lolo asked, looking up at Alastor with scared brown eyes.

Alastor shook his head. “No, Lolo, you don’t need to punish yourself.”

“Is Master Al certain?” Lolo questioned.

Alastor sighed and headed for the door. “Yes, Lolo, I’m quite certain.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alastor’s next stop was his brother’s room. 

“Hello, Alastor.”

“Did you say anything to Mother and Father?” Alastor demanded.

Aurelius blinked, apparently startled by the abrupt question. “Of course I have. Are you referring to something in particular?”

“Did you say anything about Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly being at _Willow House_?” Alastor asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Aurelius thought for a moment. “Well… I may have let something slip by accident.”

“How would you know?” Alastor was puzzled. As far as he knew, Aurelius hadn’t even _known_ about Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly.

Silently, Aurelius reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled three letters that Alastor recognized immediately. He’d sent them to Aurelius during his time with the Pomfreys. Aurelius flipped through them and pulled one out. 

“Look at this one.”

Alastor took the letter and read it in silence. Handing it back to Aurelius, he said, “You don’t slip up, you do things _deliberately_. Why did you tell Mother and Father?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Aurelius looked contrite. “They asked about your friend Pomfrey and who his friends are. They caught me out.”

Alastor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Brilliant.”

Aurelius merely shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I still have some work to finish up.”

Knowing a dismissal when he saw one, Alastor left his brother’s room. The next month and a half was going to be absolute misery.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alastor gingerly settled himself in his desk chair. His bottom and back was still a little sore from the hexing his father had given him earlier. Looking at the roll of parchment in front of him, he loaded his quill with ink and began to write.

_To everyone:_

_I’m sorry if Father didn’t make a good impression. He..._

Alastor crumpled that one up. He had no idea what the others thought of his father. No need to apologize for something he wasn’t sure had happened. He pulled out another piece of parchment, loaded up his quill, and started writing again.

_Hello all:_

_Just writing to let you know that I made it home fine. Stew, please thank your parents for letting me stay with you. I had a wonderful time and hope that it won’t be the last..._

No, that was no good, either. He didn’t want them to think he was hinting at anything, even if he _was_. Sighing, he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, loaded up his quill, and began writing once more.

_Hi everyone!_

_I just wanted to let you know that I made it home in one piece. No troubles there, really. Stew, please pass my thanks on to your parents for letting me stay for the month. It was really fun and I enjoyed getting to know Poppy, Ro, and Percy’s family. My favorite part were the Sunday afternoons._

_I don’t expect much to happen here between now and September. I suppose I’ll be seeing you at King’s Cross. Maybe Diagon Alley. Who knows? Thanks for all the fun memories!_

_Alastor_

Alastor sat back and read the letter over. He nodded to himself. He didn’t sound pathetic, didn’t sound like he was looking for sympathy, and didn’t sound like he was looking for another invitation to spend time with the Pomfreys again. Or even from one of the other families. He even _sounded_ cheerful, though he felt far from it. He winced as he stood up, remembering why. Rubbing his sore posterior for a moment, Alastor walked over to the owl his mother had grudgingly bought for him. 

“Vertu?”

He hooted softly, looking at him somberly. “I need you to take this to Stew for me, all right?”

The owl hooted again and held his leg out so Alastor could tie the letter to it. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” He carried him to the bedroom window and watched him fly into the distance. Stewart would reply at least, and maybe Rremly.

Leaning on the windowsill, Alastor stared out at the night sky, almost wishing he could fly away himself. As he stared, a dark blot caught his attention. Frowning, he watched it grow larger. After a few moments, he realized it was an owl and it was headed towards _his_ window.


	9. Friends You Can Count On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor's friends come through for him.

Leaning on the windowsill, Alastor stared out at the night sky, almost wishing he could fly away himself. As he stared, a dark blot caught his attention. Frowning, he watched it grow larger. After a few moments, he realized it was an owl and was headed towards his window. He moved back as the long-eared owl swooped through the window and over to Vertu’s perch. 

“Hello, there. Who do you have letters for?”

The owl hooted and lifted his leg to show the packet tied to his leg. Alastor stared. 

“For me?” 

The owl hooted again and Alastor quickly removed the packet. 

“Thank you, very much.”

The owl hooted a third time, drank some water and ate the Owl Treat Alastor offered him. Untying the packet he found a packet of sweets, a small volume, and a bunch of letters. Alastor was quite surprised to find not one, not two, not even three, four, or five letters waiting for him, but eight! Eight letters! All at once! Feeling a little dazed, the boy sat down at his desk and looked at each envelope, smiling when he saw that a name had been written on each to inform him who had written it. He decided to open the one from Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey first, since they _had_ been his hosts.

_Dear Alastor,_

_Patrick and I were sorry to see you go. We enjoyed having you over and we hope that you may be able to come again soon. I do hope we’ve not offended your family in some way. Please extend our greetings to them and assure them we loved having you and wish you to come again. I believe my son has informed you that I wish to knit a sweater for you. Please send your size and colour post haste so that I may start on that as soon as I can. We hope you are doing well and we hope to see you at Kings Cross._

_Sincerely,  
Iris and Patrick Pomfrey_

Alastor frowned as he finished reading the letter. Apparently, his father hadn’t left a favorable impression after all. Come to think of it, though, Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey couldn’t have offended Augustus. Augustus wouldn’t have minded, as Stewart was a Ravenclaw. He was honored that she wished to knit a sweater for him. He’d seen the ones Stewart, Griffith, and Percy had received for Christmas and admired the excellent craftsmanship. He would certainly look forward to seeing them again.

Alastor found his hand moving to pick up the letter with the mad scrawled writing. He found himself unfolding Stewart's letter, his eyes eagerly scanning the contents.

_Al,_

_Oy! How could you go and deprive us of your fine company, old boy? I’d been planning on serenading you with ‘ _Rule Britannia_ ’ for a change, and then you faffed off. I hope we haven’t upset your family. Mum and Dad say that you are always invited back. You’re part of the family now as it is, mate. Oh! Almost forgot to tell you, Mum wanted to know your sweater size. Since you’re part of the Pomfrey family now, she wants to knit a sweater for you. So, if you could be so kind as to send your size and favorite colour, she’d appreciate that and not pelt me with a pillow for almost forgetting to ask. We miss you, old chap. I suppose we’ll have to wait to see each other at Hogwarts again. _

_Take care._

_~Stew~_

He chuckled softly at the thought of Stewart singing anything other than ‘ _God Save the Queen_ ’. Every morning, without fail, Stewart had come into the guest room and begun to sing that song with Alastor or Rremly throwing a pillow at him to shut him up. Without fail, a pillow fight would result. He would have to let the Pomfreys know that his father hadn’t been angry because of them, but he would _not_ mention the truth. Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly didn’t need to know that. He was already looking forward to the end of the holidays and seeing his friends again. At least the letters would make the next month and a half easier to bear.

The next letter he picked up was the one from Rremly. He’d been sure of getting one from him as he’d specifically spoken to him about writing, though it had been a pleasant surprise to get a letter from everybody.

_Al,_

_I’m sorry you had to leave. I hope you haven’t gotten in trouble with your family. Really, we worry for you, mate. I sat down with Percy and Poppy to write this letter, figuring it might cheer you up to get this just as you returned home. Though, it was Percy’s idea to get _everyone_ to write letters so you’d be entertained for quite a while. We miss you mate, and we can’t wait ‘til we see you again at Hogwarts. I hope things don’t get rough for you. If they do, write me at once and I’ll send some sweets and Percy will send another of his favourite plays to get your mind off things._

_Love and Chocolate Frogs,_

_~Rrem_

Alastor felt himself smile. Rremly could always be counted upon to come through on his promises, as he’d more than come through the promised letter and package of sweets. It truly warmed his heart and he knew that when he next saw Rremly, he was going to hug him.

Shaking his head slightly, as if to clear it, he opened Griffith’s letter next, wondering what Stewart’s partner-in-crime had to say.

_Al,_

_Say, mate, hope we haven’t offended your father. He seemed pretty cross for some reason. It was loads of fun to have you with us. I look forward to seeing you at King’s Cross. Maybe Diagon Alley when we go school shopping. Mum likes you. Says you’re real nice and quiet. Said something about wishing I was the same, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I almost wish you could have spent the entire summer here. See you at the end of summer if not before!_

_Griff_

Alastor grinned at the obvious enthusiasm of his friend. Griffith had always been energetic and his letter reflected that. He was glad Mrs. Hooch had liked him. She was really nice, in her own way. A bit brusque, but she’d never made him feel unwelcome in her home the couple times he’d spent the night at the Hooch’s house. It was quite a haven for Quidditch fanatics, to tell the truth. Not that he’d minded, of course.

Shaking his head, amused, Alastor picked up Percy’s letter next, wondering what the most confident and charming of the lot had written. 

_Al,_

_Merlin’s pants, it’s such a shame you had to leave so abruptly. Leave it to the Slytherin-Gryffindor enmity to get your father’s knickers in a twist… actually, you know, it’d be best that we don’t talk about your father’s knickers- or really anything about your father. I just hope you’ll be all right. Do write any old time- and I mean it: **anytime** , you hear? We’re used to getting owls at odd times. Do you have any idea how many girls write to my brothers? I told them they should just start a bloody fan club already and have done with it. Then they had the nerve to tell me that I shouldn’t tease them because it’ll happen to me, too. Oh, Merlin, I hope not… That’d be dreadfully awkward and inconvenient. Ah, but enough of that! I just want to say that I hope you enjoy the play I sent you. I rather think you’ll like it._

_Take care and chin up!_

_~Percy_

Alastor couldn’t help a laugh. He could just imagine Percy surrounded by mountainous piles of letters. Shaking his head, still amused, he picked up the volume Percy had sent: Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, another Muggle play it seemed.

Next in line was Belladonna’s letter. _This ought to be good_. 

_Al,_

_Your dad’s a right ray of sunshine, isn’t he? If he keeps on with that sour expression on his face, it might just stick that way. Mum used to tell me that whenever she caught me rolling my eyes or smirking. Hasn’t happened yet, but something tells me that it **will** happen with your dad. Though, I have to admit, that’d make one wicked carving on his gravestone. Don’t you think? But seriously, if anything happens, and he’s hard on you- just write me. I’ll come down and hex him. I’ve just mastered the Bat-Bogey Hex. He won’t know what hit him. I don’t care if we can’t do magic yet. Some rules are meant to be broken, and besides, I can’t imagine they’d send a student to Azkaban on account of one incident of underage magic._

_See you at Kings._

_Bella_

He couldn’t help his surprise as he read her letter. Belladonna was really ready to go to battle for him. Alastor could just see it now- he could see her tailing his father, getting to know where he goes about and when. She’d wait for just the right opportunity and she’d wham him with it. As tempting as it was to let her do it, he knew he wouldn’t tell her. There was no integrity in letting someone else fight his battles for him.

He now unfolded Poppy’s letter, curious to see what she had to say. 

_Alastor,_

_I was sorry to see you go so soon. I do hope you’re doing all right and that we haven’t offended your family in some way. Just know that my family and I were more than happy to have you with us. You’ve a longstanding invitation with us, just remember that. We don’t stand on ceremony as mum says. The moment you had gone, I sat down at the desk and wrote this out, hoping that it would get to you just as you returned home. You’ll have to tell me if Spooky made good time. You’ll be seeing a lot of Spooky believe me. You’ll be getting so many letters from us that there might even be a parchment shortage because of it._

_~*Poppy*~_

For some reason, the thought she had been sorry he had to leave warmed his heart, almost soothing it. Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had mentioned several times during his stay that he was more than welcome to stay with them again, for which he was very grateful. It was nice to know that there were people out there who _wanted_ his company rather than tolerated it.

Alastor picked up the Rolanda’s letter next, wondering what ‘ _Hurricane Hooch_ ’ had to say. She had more energy than her brother and tried the hardest to join in the boys’ games.

_Al,_

_It was nice to meet you, after all Griff’s said about you. You’re just like Griff said, only better, if that made any sense. Thanks for the piggyback rides you gave me. Oh, mum just told me that you should feel free to visit anytime you’re in Liddell. I think it’d be loads of fun to see you again. I’ll be going to King’s Cross with Mum and Griff, so I’ll see you then. Oh, better go, it looks like the boys are getting ready to do some flying. See you!_

_Ro_

Alastor’s grin didn’t go away as he read Rolanda’s letter. So very like her: quick, to the point, and ended abruptly. Not that he minded. She could be tiring at times. When it came to piggyback rides, Rolanda had been the most restless passenger of the two girls. Her feet had been in motion almost constantly and she’d kicked him by accident more than once, although she’d always been quick to apologize afterwards.

Alastor smiled. He’d enjoyed his time with the others immensely. Getting to know the girls had been a wonderful experience and he certainly looked forward to see them again. As for having fun without the others, well, he doubted that would ever happen, especially after the way his father welcomed him home.

In spite of that, he sighed contentedly, as if he’d just eaten a good meal, rising and preparing for bed. Once he had done so, he gathered the letters together into a neat stack, ready to be answered in the morning. His fingers lingered on Rremly’s for a few moments before he set it on top of the stack. That being done, he turned out the lights and slipped into bed. Nestling his cheek into his pillow, he let sleep overtake him. Maybe the next month and a half wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	10. Shyest of the Shy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor returns to Hogwarts for his second year.

As he’d expected, the last month and a half of Alastor’s summer holidays was utter misery. If it hadn’t been for the letters he received from his friends on a regular basis, Alastor didn’t know what he would have done. He’d gone to Diagon Alley with his mother and brother, hoping to get a chance to see his friends, but Calla had kept such a close eye on him that he’d been unable to get away. Alastor suspected his father had told her to watch him like a hawk.

In any case, he didn’t get a chance to speak with his friends until he went to King’s Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express. As he was towing the two trunks across the platform, the others surrounded him and somehow managed to get both trunks on the train without fuss. Once they were taken care of, he began to chat with the others, catching up with them. 

“Sung ‘ _Rule Brittania_ ’ yet, Stew?”

“No, mate,” Stewart’s grin was cheeky, quite the impish expression on his face. “That’s reserved especially for you”

“How’s your ankle, Poppy?” Alastor asked the girl, squeezing the hand that found its way into his.

She smiled brilliantly up at him, that serene light in her storm grey eyes. “It’s been fine for months, Alastor, but thank you for remembering.”

“You’re welcome, Poppy,” he answered sincerely before looking around at the others. “Read any new plays yet, Percy?”

The dapper boy smiled, cobalt blue eyes lit with mirth. “Ten more, actually.”

Everyone laughed and Alastor turned to Belladonna. “Hexed anyone lately?”

“I had two targets in mind, but then I decided they were hardly worth the effort,” she winked, lips forming a smirk as per usual.

“So, Ro, what’s the highest you’ve flown now?”

“Twenty feet, Al!” Rolanda answered proudly from her perch on Griffith’s shoulders.

Alastor reached up and tugged on her ponytail. “Twenty feet! Imagine that! You’ll be a pro in no time.”

“Stop that!” She batted his hand away.

Alastor turned his attention to Griffith. “How about you, Griff? Had anymore trouble with her?”

“No more than usual.” The other boy shrugged.

“Oy!” Rolanda lightly bopped her brother over the head. “I’m still here, you know!”

Griffith rubbed his head where his sister had hit him. “See what I mean, Al?”

“I do,” Alastor replied with a grin. “Well, Rrem, how was the rest of the holiday?”

The other boy smiled his trademark smile, the expression in his eyes kind, as always. “It was fine, but I really wished you could have stayed.”

“Stewart! Poppy!” Mrs. Pomfrey’s voice announced her arrival. “Oh, Alastor, how are you?”

He smiled up at Mrs. Pomfrey, wishing his own mother would act as concerned about him as Mrs. Pomfrey. 

“I’m fine, Mrs. Pomfrey. Thank you for the letters.”

“You’re quite welcome, Alastor,” she replied, brushing a hand over his hair, almost as if she were his mother. “Will you be joining us for Christmas, too?”

Alastor’s face lit up. “I’d love to.”

“Alastor.” Calla’s voice deflated Alastor like a balloon.

He sighed. “If Mother and Father agree.”

“Thank you, Alastor,” Calla told him curtly.

He nodded. “You’re welcome, Mother.”

There was a pause, in which Calla stared down her nose at Mrs. Pomfrey, her eyes steely, but in any case the pause was interrupted by Stewart, “Oy, mate, let’s get to our compartment,” he suggested, indicating the train door where Rremly had moved to stand by.

“An excellent suggestion, Stew,” Alastor replied, climbing aboard without bothering to say good-bye to his mother.

Rremly followed Alastor and the two boys set off to look for an empty compartment while the others said goodbye to their families. Without warning, Rremly quietly asked, “It’s because I’m a Hufflepuff and Griff, Percy, and Bella are Gryffindors, isn’t it?”

“What?” Alastor was startled by the question.

Rremly stopped and turned to look at Alastor. “Your father, the way he acted when he came to fetch you.”

“Yes, unfortunately, but _please_ don’t tell the others,” Alastor requested urgently as the others approached.

Rremly nodded, patting him on the back. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you, Rrem.” Alastor turned and continued down the train.

“Bit late for that,” Bella pointed out sardonically, coming up behind them. “But I already knew. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Alastor could feel the relief sweep through. “Thanks.”

He stopped and glanced in one compartment. A boy about Rremly’s height with golden hair, luminous grey eyes, and round gold rimmed antique glasses sat alone in the compartment, reading a rather large volume. Alastor rather found him familiar, but he was at a loss as for the boy’s name.

“Have you found a compartment yet, Al?” Stew asked.

“Well, there’s a boy in here.” Alastor replied. “Not sure if we should disturb him.” 

The others exchanged looks and shrugged, but Rremly was the one who came to stand near to Alastor and looked into the compartment. 

“Oh, that’s Milo Wilkes,” Rremly smiled. “We often study together in the dormitory. The common room’s really too noisy for him.”

“Too _noisy_ for him?” Griffith raised an eyebrow.

Rremly shot him a look. “He’s quite shy. Crowds tend to make him anxious.”

“Shyer than _you_?” Stewart smiled.

“Is that _really_ so surprising?” 

“No, but it’s amusing. Sweet, even,” Percy mused, looking at Milo through the glass. “ _What?_ ” He asked when everyone turned to look at him.

“I’ll ask him if he wouldn’t mind some company,” said Rremly. He opened the door and a few steps inside. “Hi, Milo,” he smiled. “We were wondering if perhaps you wouldn’t mind some company.”

Milo looked at Rremly and then at the rest of them, and though he managed a tiny smile, Alastor could tell he was a bit overwhelmed by the sight of them. 

“Oh- well, yes- I mean _no_ , I… I w-wouldn’t mind some company,” he stammered a bit, blushing, obviously a bit embarrassed, nearly dropping his book which Rremly caught and handed back to him and took a seat beside him.

“Lovely,” Percy smiled brightly; obviously hoping to put him at ease as he took the seat on Milo’s other side. This made Milo blush even more.

Alastor moved inside with the others. They all took their seats and after Rremly went around introducing them, they all asked questions and tried to get Milo comfortable with their conversation. They told him about themselves, and soon they learned a few things about him. 

They learned he was the youngest of his family, which consisted of his parents and two sets of twins: Cornelius and Cedric were in sixth year while Morwen and Ariadne were fourth years. They found out that just like Percy’s and Alastor’s families, the Wilkeses were also an old venerable family that went back _several_ centuries. Also, they discovered that while Milo’s older siblings were active and very much involved in Quidditch, he very much preferred to watch. Similarly, just as Percy’s brothers and cousins were split between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Milo’s siblings where split between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor—Milo was the first of the family to be Sorted into Hufflepuff and Percy the first in two generations to be Sorted into Gryffindor.

Milo was also an avid reader who particularly loved to read and _write_ plays, which _thoroughly_ pleased Percy who let out such a gasp, almost as if he’d just discovered a chest filled to the brim with treasure, quite startling Milo- and, indeed, everyone else. Before they could ask what that gasp was about, Percy immediately began to pepper Milo with questions over his favourite plays and playwrights, as well as questions over what Milo liked to write about, and what other books Milo liked to read.

Poor Milo could barely get one response out before another three questions were asked. Eventually Belladonna cast a silencing charm on him. Percy wasn’t at all happy about that… until he saw Milo smile, obviously relieved. It appeared Percy rather liked that smile. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Nice chap, isn’t he?” Stewart asked the others as they followed the older students to where a veritable fleet of horseless carriages waited to take them up to the castle.

Alastor nodded. “Yeah.”

“ _Really_ shy, though,” Griffith commented as Stewart climbed into the carriage.

“I know,” Stewart agreed as Alastor climbed in after Griffith. 

Belladonna climbed in next. “Percy sure took a fancy to him.” 

“I just hope he doesn’t fluster Milo too much,” voiced Alastor.

Just minutes before Milo, Rremly, and Percy had taken the previous carriage. He remembered how Milo had looked, trying very much to avoid looking at Percy directly. Venturing away from conversation about Milo, they all talked about nothing in particular as the carriage wound its way up the front drive. Still talking, they climbed out of the carriage and made their way up to the castle. Once inside, they made their way to the Great Hall, where they split up to sit at their House tables. 

“Alastor!”

“Coming, Aurelius,” Alastor called back, reluctantly walking over to join his brother.

“You know, it's really admirable the way you stick by your friends, they're lucky to have you,” Aurelius told Alastor when he reached him. He spared a small smile, or at least the closest thing to a smile, before heading to his seat at the Slytherin table, leaving Alastor looking at his retreating back in surprise.


	11. A Very Special Birthday

“Al?” Alastor scrambled to a sitting position at the sound of a voice and looked at the door to the dormitory.

In came his fourth year cousin, Polydora Black, who hadn’t spoken to he’d become the Slytherin poster-boy for Inter-House Unity last year. Her appearance startled him so completely he somehow lost the power to form a sentence.

Upon seeing him in clear shock, Polydora laughed- and then suddenly her face fell away to reveal Belladonna, gaining back her unkempt golden hair, height, and lanky figure.

“Sorry to give you such a turn. Long story short, I’m a Metamorphagus, but you can’t tell anyone.” The expression on her face was firm. “I don’t like changing here at school in case someone should catch me out, but it was the only way to get in here. Fonzie- you know, Alfons Albrecht, he owed me a favour. Told me how to find this place and told me the password. I saw your cousin leave and I just breezed in.”

As bowled over as he was by the fact that she was a Metamorphagus, Alastor managed to focus past that. 

“Sorry, but why was it so important to get into my dormitory?”

Belladonna merely smirked. “Just wanted to pop by and ask if you wanted to take a walk with me. It was just an added treat to infiltrate and see how the other half lives.”

“A walk?” Rolling his eyes, Alastor slid off his bed where he’d been scribbling a list of the assignments he had to get done so that he could check them off one by one. 

“Yes, you know, putting one foot in front of the other?” Belladonna’s hazel eyes were bright with amusement. “I hear people have been doing it for thousands of years.”

Alastor was grinning as he joined his friend. “Have they now?”

Smirking again, Belladonna merely gave his arm a punch. It was her way of showing affection. 

“C’mon, let’s dash,” she said as she morphed back into Polydora for the moment and made her way to the door.

As strange as it was to follow and walk beside her, looking so much like his haughty cousin, he smiled nonetheless. Together, they left the Slytherin dorms and meandered their way up to the third floor. Alastor blinked when they came across a door opposite a tapestry of a man getting clubbed by trolls. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen this door before.”

“Really?” Belladonna asked looking down at him now that she’d changed back.

Alastor nodded in the affirmative.

“Well, in that case, let’s pop in and explore some,” Belladonna suggested before turning the handle and gesturing for Alastor to go in first. 

Stepping into the room, Alastor was surprised when a chorus of voices shouted, “ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_ ”

“You remembered!” He exclaimed as his friends surrounded him, pressing gifts into his hands.

Stewart grinned even as he rolled his eyes. “Of course we would! You’re our mate. We could never forget your birthday!”

“Thank you, thank you!” Alastor repeated over and over again quite happily; even as he sat down to begin opening presents.

Rolanda sent a _Wigtown Wanderers_ jumper via Griffith, that team being his favorite. Mrs. Hooch sent a plate of her homemade biscuits. Griffith, himself, gave Alastor a fairly large wood carved plaque with the four House mascots carved into it. Holden presented him with a box of Honeydukes sweets. Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave sent a box of assorted cakes from their shop, _Sweet Nothings_ , and a pair of grey knitted mittens and matching scarf. Rremly gave Alastor a two-way mirror (“In case things get too much for you at home,” the other boy explained for Alastor’s ears alone) and a scarf he’d knitted himself with the colors of the four houses all woven together in unity.

Percy presented him with two spectacular ensembles that he and his brother Josselyn (nicknamed ‘Joss’) had designed together. One was a set of bottle green trousers, waistcoat, frock coat, and cloak—all embroidered with silver flourish designs—and the other suit was of deep vermilion with gold embroidery that didn’t all clash with Alastor’s unkempt shoulder length red hair.

“Consider yourself an honorary Gryffindor,” Percy grinned.

Poor Alastor couldn’t find any words. It was too wonderful a gift and too wonderful a gesture. Percy laughed and hugged him in the end, taking Alastor out of his misery, which Alastor was more than grateful for. Then there were the gifts from the rest of his family: Quidditch trading cards from Julian (though everyone called him ‘Jules’), a year’s subscription to _Quidditch News_ from Viatrix and Lucilla (otherwise Trix and Luci), and a poster of the _Wigtown Wanderers_ beaters, Anthony Brisby and Jarvis Lovelace—who Alastor quite admired—from Juno. 

Belladonna’s gift was _Mischievous Defense: 100 Hexes for Defense and Mischief_ by Artemis Brookstone. “You’ll find page thirty-four quite useful.” He turned to the page in question to see it was a section on the Bat-Bogey Hex. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh and told her he’d certainly bookmark it. 

Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had sent Alastor a knitted jumper and a songbook. Poppy’s gift was a batch of apple tarts and a sketchbook full of sketches featuring _Willow House_ , the countryside, and their family. Stewart’s present was a pair of socks that he urged Alastor to try on right away. Once Alastor had, Stewart tapped them with his wand and muttered an incantation of sorts. Suddenly, the socks started doing a tap dance routine and Alastor was a helpless passenger. After the laughter died down, he presented Alastor with his _real_ gift: a large portrait of the six of them—Alastor, Stewart, Percy, Griffith, Belladonna, and Rremly—standing together in view of the castle wearing their school robes, all looking happy. To say the least, Alastor _loved_ it, and he rather imagined he might stare at it for hours just to see what their portrait selves would do.

There was even a gift from Milo— _Quidditch Through The Ages_ by Kennilworthy Whisp—who smiled a bit nervously, as if worrying whether or not Alastor would like it. Even more surprising was the fact that Alastor received gifts from Alfons and Maximilian Albrecht. They gave him a book about potions used in conjunction with Defense Against the Dark Arts: _Potions for Defense_ by Andranos Withering. However, this gift was delivered through Belladonna who informed him that Maximilian was in the hospital wing as the Gryffindor, Ross Graeme, who mistook him for Alfons, had attacked him. When Alfons found out what happened he’d gone to avenge his brother. Another spectacular duel ensued between Alfons and Ross, which landed them both with a detention when Professor Morrigan caught them.

Naturally he’d heard about the duels, which were already considered legendary. Alastor wasn’t altogether certain who sent out the first hex, but he could imagine it wasn’t Alfons. Alfons was generally polite and nice to everyone- unless of course they have wronged him, his brother, or his friend Felix. Alastor felt it must have been Ross, as he wasn’t terribly nice to others. He was usually guarded and kept to himself, but when something or someone happened to annoy or upset him, he certainly let the world know about it. Alastor had seen it for himself; seen the glares Ross shot at Alfons or Maximilian whenever they were quick to answer a question in Potions. 

From what he knew, the twins were _quite_ intelligent—excelling in all their classes with ease—and from what he could see they never seemed to have to study hard or put in great effort into their work. Even in Herbology—which they both weren’t terribly fond of—they still pulled in top marks. The same went for their friend Felix. Alastor figured that would be enough to annoy anyone who was jealous and had to work _hard_ for their marks, but yet, it was just _Alfons_ who attracted Ross’ ire. To say the least, Alastor couldn’t understand it at all.

With a prod from Belladonna, Alastor was brought back to the present. The lights were dimmed and suddenly made out three figures carrying in a large vanilla cake topped with strawberries, twelve candles, and the four House crests etched into the corners with coloured frosting. Apparently Rremly, Stewart, and Percy had disappeared to the kitchens to fetch the cake without him realizing it. After a rather… _interesting_ rendition of the birthday song—which Stewart embellished with new hilarious stanzas—they all tucked in. 

Several hours later, Alastor and Belladonna were the last to leave the room, each laden with the gifts Alastor had received. 

“So, did you enjoy our walk, Al?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Alastor grinned, glancing back down the corridor. “Say, the door’s gone.”

Belladonna smiled enigmatically. “It’s only there when it’s needed. Some call it the “Come and Go Room” but it’s really called the Room of Requirement. It appears when someone has most need of it and provides that which the person requires.”

“Wow, that’s brilliant,” Alastor replied with a touch of awe in his voice.

Talking and laughing, they made their way back to the common room. It had been, by far, Alastor’s best birthday yet.


	12. A Most Splendid Yule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alastor gets to know and become friends with two of his own Housemates.

The next morning Alastor woke to find the Albrecht twins weren’t abed. With a glance around he could see the others were still asleep. He looked to the clock. It was half past seven. _I suppose they like to have their breakfast early_. Easing out of bed, he began to dress. Outside the sun shone through the clouds, and it was promising to be a beautiful weekend.

After tossing on the knitted jumper Mrs. Pomfrey had given him for his birthday, he made his way down to the Great Hall. From what he could see there were only a smattering of students at their tables. All he found was one first year when Alastor looked over to the Slytherin table. For a few moments he was a bit confused, wondering where they could be- but then he caught sight of them sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Felix, wearing Ravenclaw scarves over their Slytherin robes. They looked up at him a moment later—almost as if they felt Alastor’s gaze—and waved him over. Alastor made his way toward them, still not quite certain what he thought of the twins.

“Sorry we couldn’t be there for your party,” said Maximilian. He still couldn’t tell them apart, but the monogram M on his robe certainly helped.

Alfons smirked, patting the space between himself and Maximilian, “Yes, we heard it was wonderful.”

“Yeah, it was,” nodded Alastor. “I really want to thank you for the gift. I look forward to reading it.” Truth was, he would have started reading it last night, but _Quidditch Through The Ages_ quite lured him away from it.

“We are glad you like the gift,” Maximilian said with a smile. “But, before more is said, we would like to introduce you to our dear friend, and ‘ _Brain Twin_ ’ as Fonzie is fond of saying. This is Felix Stoltz.”

Felix held out his hand from his side of the table. “A pleasure to meet you, Herr Moody.”

“Um… just call me Alastor- or Al, that’s even better,” said Alastor, shaking his hand.

“If you wish, _Al_ ,” Felix winked, his overall expression and demeanor quite calm and steady.

Alastor chuckled briefly and then turned back to Maximilian. “I have it from Bella that you’d been hurt? You’re all right now?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he assured Alastor, his expression just a bit wry, “Herr Graeme—”

“ _Herr Schweinhund_ ,” Alfons corrected him as he passed over a dish with a little bit of everything to Alastor followed by a glass of milk.

Maximilian rolled his eyes, “ _Herr Schweinhund_ only got me just below the shoulder,” indicating the spot directly above his shoulder blade on his left side. “But I am lucky. There was no mark left.”

“I, however, left my mark on Herr Schweinhund,” Alfons smiled wickedly, indicating a spot below the collarbone on his left side. “The things that he said to me, one would think he had a vocabulary of only twenty-five words.”

Alastor was a little amazed that Alfons managed to do that without suffering any hits himself, but there was something else bothering him. “Er… what exactly does ‘ _Schweinhund_ ’ mean?” He attempted to pronounce it the same way the twins had, but he knew his delivery was _far_ from flawless.

“In English: _pig-dog_.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Alastor mused, having to admit that it was a bit funny.

For his part, Alfons smiled, the epitome of cleverness and charm. “That is your language lesson for today,” he winked.

“Thank you, you’re so kind,” Alastor chuckled, deciding to just go ahead and ask his question. “You know, it’s really none of my business, but why is it that you both fight so much?”

Alfons did not appear to be so surprised or upset by the question. He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking again. “We fight because Herr Graeme is a Schweinhund. He doesn’t like that I’m Slytherin, German, and open-minded. He seems to think I should be ashamed. There was a world war several years ago-” and at the astonished look on Alastor’s face, he quickly added, “a muggle war, forgive me. It was a truly confusing war- many countries fighting against each other and there were alliances that shifted. It is too much to explain, but the point is this: that England and Germany fought each other. My country lost the war, but we carried all the blame. Most people think every German should look away in shame. Herr Schweinhund is one of them.”

“He also does not like that Fonzie always has top marks and that he made the Quidditch team in first year,” Maximilian commented.

“But that is the same for all three of us,” remarked Felix, “but it is Fonzie who he focuses on.”

“I am just special like that, but really, it is because I give back what he gives out,” Alfons just rolled his eyes. “And for this reason, I should warn you,” here he let his gaze fall on Alastor, his vivid blue eyes twinkling, “perhaps you should take a small mirror with you where you go and check the corners before you proceed.” He smirked. “ _Constant vigilance_. Better to be safe than to walk right into a duel.”

_Constant vigilance. I like that. It’s pretty good advice at least_. “Maybe I will,” he laughed, deciding that, since they weren’t put off by his questions, he’d ask what he’d wanted to ask from the start. “I’m curious, why are you both wearing Ravenclaw scarves?”

Now it was Maximilian who responded, his smile a bit playful. “The same reason Percy gave you that splendid Gryffindor-esque ensemble.”

Alastor didn’t need any further explanation. This was something he understood all too well.

“You know, I should really ask Percy to make something similar for me,” Alfons mused. “I would love to see the look on the Schweinhund’s face when he sees me wearing it.”

“You really seem to _like_ annoying Ross,” Alastor simply had to say.

Alfons laughed, “There is a curious American expression that can perhaps explain this: ‘ _If life gives you lemons, make lemonade_.’”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alastor didn’t think anything could top the surprise birthday party Belladonna organized for him, but he forgot about Christmas and the myriad of possibilities that holiday had in store. He received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey, reminding him of their invitation to spend part of the Christmas holidays with them. Rather than ask Aurelius to speak to their parents for him, Alastor wrote to them himself, having no desire to have a repeat performance of last spring. After sending the letter, he sought out his friends and found them in the library, since it was raining pretty heavily. Pausing in the doorway, he counted the number of heads and came up two short. Belladonna was studying with the twins, and Felix, while Milo helped Percy with his Transfiguration homework, which was _strange_ as he knew Percy _rarely_ , if ever, needed help in the subject. Rremly sat near the two, but was clearly going through his Herbology homework.

Alastor frowned as he approached the table and slid into the seat across from Milo and Percy and next to Rremly.

“Where are Stew and Griff?”

“They raided the kitchens again,” Rremly explained, looking at Alastor as Milo caught Percy looking at him again and tried for what seemed like the umpteenth time to get him to pay attention.

“Why do you ask?”

Alastor looked around at all the curious faces. Quietly, he explained about the Pomfreys’ invitation for Christmas.

“I just sent an owl to Mother and Father asking if I may go.”

“You didn’t ask your brother to ask them for you?” Rremly asked him, sounding mildly surprised.

Alastor shook his head. “No, I figured I was better off asking them myself.”

“Best of luck on that,” Percy inserted, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Alastor sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Percy.” Silently, he added, ‘ _I’m going to need it_.’

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Alastor was practically bowled over when two nine-year-old girls crashed into him after he climbed down from the Hogwarts Express and hugged him as one. He did his best to hug them both at once.

“Poppy! Ro!”

“Hi, Al!” Rolanda was the first to reply, disentangling herself from the group hug. “I’m so glad you’ll be spending Christmas with the Pomfreys!”

He laughed, tugging on her ponytail. “So am I, Ro.”

“Are you really staying for both weeks?” Poppy asked, the next to disentangle herself, gray eyes shining with hope.

He smiled as he gently brushed her tawny hair—that was taking on more and more gold highlights—out of her face. “Yes, Poppy. Mother and Father gave me permission to stay for both weeks.”

“Wonderful.” she smiled softly up at him.

“Stew!” Suddenly the two girls attacked him much as they had Alastor.

As they greeted him, a hand landed on Alastor’s shoulder. “Boy.”

“Yes, Mother?” He turned to look up at Calla, who had a stern expression on her face.

Aurelius at her side, she told him, “Don’t do anything to bring shame on the family name or you _won’t_ be allowed to spend time at your friends’ homes again. We are giving you another chance”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied, glancing swiftly at his brother. He couldn’t read the other boy’s expression.

His mother’s voice drew his attention. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Pomfrey.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Moody. Thank you for letting your son visit us again.” Mrs. Pomfrey was accompanied by Stewart and Poppy, both of whom were smiling broadly.

After a moment, Calla managed to say, “You’re welcome.”

“Are you certain you don’t mind if he stays both weeks?” Mrs. Pomfrey asked, sounding a little worried.

Calla nodded stiffly. “I’m certain. Come, Aurelius.”

“Yes, Mother.” Aurelius followed Calla from the station, dragging his trunk along behind him.

Mrs. Pomfrey turned to Alastor. “Well, Alastor, how was school?”

“It was fine, Mrs. Pomfrey,” he replied, smiling, as the others began to gather around him. “Thank you very much for the birthday gifts.”

She smiled and smoothed his brown hair back from his forehead, much as he wished his own mother would. “You’re quite welcome, Alastor.” She looked at the children gathered around her. “Shall we go, then?”

“Yes!” was the general outcry and Mrs. Pomfrey, assisted by Mrs. Hooch, Mrs. Redgrave, and Mrs. Lockley started shepherding the children from the platform.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

During the week leading up to Christmas, a majority of the time was spent outside with Stewart, Griffith, Percy, Rremly, Belladonna, Poppy, and Rolanda, just playing in the snow. They had snowball fights, built snowmen (and snowwomen), made snow angels, and just generally had fun. Griffith, Rolanda, Belladonna (who was staying with Griffith this time), and Percy went to their homes around midday while Alastor, Poppy, Stewart, and Rremly trooped into Willow House to dry off and warm up in front of the fire with warm cider or hot chocolate before eating dinner. The evenings were spent gathered in front of the fire, playing games, talking, or listening to Mr. Pomfrey play song after song on his violin. Sometimes Stewart would play, either alone or with his father. Poppy might sing a song or two, and Iris joined in a few times with her cello, harp, or the piano. Alastor and Rremly were content to sit and listen, although they were encouraged to join in more than once.

Rremly went home on the morning of Christmas Eve so he could spend Christmas with his own family. Alastor fell asleep wondering what the next day would bring. As usual, he was awakened by a very familiar voice singing ‘ _God Save the Queen_ ’. Without even opening his eyes, Alastor pulled his pillow from under his head and threw it in the direction the singing was coming from. There was a soft ‘ _flump_ ’ and the singing stopped. The pillow was returned to Alastor none-too-gently.

“Oy!” Grabbing the other pillow, Alastor began hitting his ‘assailant’ with it.

“ _Boys_! It’s five in the _morning_!”. Pomfrey, who had heard his son's dulcet tones, quite literally levitated Stewart—who was smiling all the while—out of the room.

“Now you should be able to get some more sleep, Alastor.” He winked and left the room.

Stewart could be heard down the hall, most likely still floating inexorably to his room, “Oy! Put me down, Dad!” There was a moment of silence, and then there was a slight thump, apparently Stewart had landed on the floor. “I didn't mean like that!”

Alastor could hear father and son laughing. Even as he settled down into bed, Alastor felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn’t he have had a father like Patrick Pomfrey?

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

That Christmas was, by far, the best in Alastor’s life. All twelve years of it. The presents he received from his friends and their families were the best he’d received and more than he’d ever gotten in previous Christmases put together. To say the least, he was a very happy boy. Boxing Day arrived and brought Rremly, Felix, the Albrechts, and even Milo, which Percy was ecstatic about, but made an obvious effort to downplay it. Rremly, Felix, and the Albrechts would be staying for the rest of the holidays. Poppy and Rolanda immediately took a liking to Felix, the twins, and Milo, quite adopting them as they had Alastor and Rremly. The second week passed in a similar fashion to the previous week, although Rremly did insist that they spend time doing the work assigned to the students over the holidays. When the nine students were doing the work, Poppy and Rolanda occupied themselves elsewhere.

At one point, Alastor, craving some time for solitude, went out to the orchard and climbed into one of the bare apple trees, wrapping his new dark blue and silver embroidered winter cloak (courtesy of Percy and Joss) tightly around him. As he perched there, he remembered his first morning at _Willow House_ , when he’d looked out the bedroom window to see Poppy and her father picking apples. If he concentrated on the memory hard enough, he could hear echoes of their laughter in his mind.

It had seemed idyllic and perfect, but he’d come to realize that life was hardly ever perfect. There was always something to ruin the perfection. He’d thought everyone’s parents were like his, but his time with his friends’ families indicated that they weren’t. He was even beginning to wonder if he should cling so tightly to his own family. They’d never shown any worry or care about him as a person. Their only concern was that he would do as he was told and not bring shame on the family name.

The only one in his family who seemed to care even the least little bit about him was his brother, Aurelius. Though, Aurelius never seemed to come through when Alastor counted on him to. Whenever plans fell through, it was because Aurelius had either said too much or not enough. It was why Alastor had chosen to owl their parents himself.

He’d originally been invited to spend one week with the Pomfreys, but had told his parents both weeks in his owl to them. They’d agreed, so Alastor had owled the Pomfreys and requested that he stay for the two weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had made sure Alastor’s parents agreed to the two weeks before saying he was welcome to stay. Rremly was spending both weeks, but had gone home for Christmas Day.

When Alastor really thought about it, his friends and their families were a better family to him than his own. Mrs. Pomfrey, Mrs. Hooch, Mrs. Redgrave, and Mrs. Lockley made sure he had enough to eat, was dressed warm enough to go outside, and generally fussed over him as if he was one of their own children. Mr. Pomfrey, Mr. Redgrave, and Mr. Lockley didn’t hesitate to include Alastor on trips with their own sons. Mr. Hooch was sadly deceased, but Alastor was fairly certain he would have acted the same way.

It wasn’t just Alastor, either. Belladonna, the twins, and Felix were all fussed over by the women and included by the men. They were, in effect, nine children with four mothers and three fathers. Even Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, whom he met briefly when they brought Milo over, were _exceedingly_ kind to him and the others.

“Al! Come down! It’s time for dinner!” Poppy stood at the base of the tree, calling up to Alastor.

He blinked and looked around. Twilight had settled over the land as he’d been up in the tree and he finally noticed that he was shivering.

“I’m coming, Poppy.”

“Good, I thought I’d have to climb up there to get you down, and I would too, but mother wouldn't be happy,” she called back as he began to climb down.

He dropped the last five feet to land in a heap in the snow. “I doubt she would, as climbing isn’t very ladylike.”

“No, but it’s certainly more fun,” she told him seriously as they started toward the house.

He laughed but made no comment. When Poppy’s small hand found his, he said nothing, but squeezed it reassuringly.


	13. The Medicinal Properties of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a bout of illness prompts an unlikely person to come to Alastor's aid, and in which Alastor makes a new acquaintance.

“Moody?”

Alastor groaned and pulled his covers over his head.

“Moody, what’s wrong with you?”

Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. “Go away, Malfoy.”

“Have it your way.” His cousin, Cassius Malfoy sounded irritated, but Alastor was too busy trying not to cough up a lung to care.

Alastor heard the other boys leave the dormitory, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. His head was pounding, his arms and legs felt weighted down, and he could barely breathe. He drifted off to sleep before he could muster up the energy to get up.

“Al?”

Alastor’s eyes opened slightly to see the Albrecht twins standing over his bed, looking concerned. “Didn’t know you two were still here.”

Fonzie (a nickname Alfons preferred those who he cared for to use) shook his head. “Can’t imagine you would know. You sound terrible.”

Alastor opened his mouth to refute that; to insist he didn’t sound _that_ bad, but was stopped by a coughing fit that seized him.

Max (as Maximilian preferred to be called) looked even more concerned, but it was Fonzie who spoke up, “That's it. Up with you. We're going to the H-Wing.”

“All right,” Alastor answered on a moan as Fonzie and Max turned the covers back. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make the long walk, though.”

“Just throw your arm around our shoulders and we’ll get you there,” said Max, helping Alastor out of bed while Fonzie stood by, laughing quietly, apparently finding the idea vastly amusing.

“Mein lieber Max,” he started to say as he got hold of his laughter, “you’re still thinking in the old way. What would Felix say if he were here?”

With a smirk, Fonzie took on Felix’ mannerisms right down to his stance, calmly facial expression, and the sound, tone, and cadence of his voice. “ _‘Are you a wizard, or are you not?’_?

Alastor couldn’t help a laugh at that, hardly able to imagine having to consciously train himself to think as a wizard. It really made him wonder, perhaps for the first time, what it must be like to have come from the muggle world, to have not known about magic until the arrival of a Hogwarts letter.

Rolling his eyes with a quiet laugh, Max said, “Levitation Charm, then?”

“Now _that’s_ more like it,” Fonzie grinned, approvingly, drawing his wand from his robes. “Count of three?”

Max nodded and began the count, his wand at the ready. “Eins, zwei,” and then in perfect unison the twins intoned, “ _wingardium leviosa_!”

Perhaps due to the fact that they were so in sync with each other, and remarkably confident in their magic despite having only last year come to use it for the first time, the Albrechts’ dual cast didn’t shoot him up into the air as had happened when Griffith and Stewart had attempted to dual cast the very same charm on him just a week ago.

This time he was merely gently tilted to a horizontal angle, as if he was only lying on a bed, and floated up to hover at chest level between the twins, which was a true testament to their shared talents, as dual casting wasn’t something they were set to learn until sixth year. Apparently that’s around the time when a student has a more grounded understanding and control of their own magic to attempt to meld it with another student’s magic.

If Alastor weren’t feeling so achy and exhausted, he might have asked them with joking sarcasm if there was anything they _couldn’t_ do. As it was, he just took a little comfort in being horizontal again and the fact that the Albrechts didn’t waste any time levitating him through the dormitory and out into the common room.

They hadn’t gotten too far, however, before a set of footsteps could be heard approaching them, followed by a familiar voice, one Alastor hadn’t expected to hear, “Why, exactly, are you two levitating my brother?”

Turning his head in the direction of his brother’s voice, Alastor saw Aurelius eying the three of them suspiciously.

“He’s very ill, Herr Moody,” said Max, his tone one of polite respectfulness.

Though Fonzie’s tone was no less polite, there was a little edge to it, “And we’re taking him to the hospital wing.”

While it was clear that Aurelius had _not_ missed the slight edge in Fonzie’s tone, and while it was equally clear that he didn’t much care for it, Aurelius seemed to let it go, turning his gaze and attention to Alastor, the wary coolness of his expression easing to one of concern, albeit subtle and guarded.

“While it’s quite clear your friends have things well in hand, I would nonetheless appreciate it if you would allow me to take over here,” said Aurelius, an almost imperceptible touch of kindness softening his guarded tone. “I _am_ your brother, after all.”  

For the longest of moments, Alastor just couldn’t find a single thing to say. Though Aurelius had ceased to interfere in Alastor’s friendships, as well as their family life, and begun to tend toward a quiet manner and solitude, it was still a shock for him to show concern. More surprising still, Aurelius had not exerted command, but had made a polite request instead.

Alastor decided this was a rare opportunity to test the waters, and if it all fell through he decided to just blame it on his illness and inability to think straight. He’d never quite stopped yearning for a better relationship with his family, for any touch of kindness, and here it was. He wasn’t going to say no to that.

“I- thanks, that’d be…um…all right,” he struggled to find to accept the gesture without seeming too moved or desperate for it.

As ineloquent as his response was, Aurelius appeared to understand what Alastor had really meant to say. The corner of his lips tilted up slightly, the only indication of a smile Aurelius seemed able to give, and it was then that Alastor came to realize that he’d never seen his brother actually smile.

“Thank you,” Aurelius said, and for a brief moment there was a flicker of surprise in his expression, as if stunned by the ease with which he spoke the words and actually _sincerely_ meant them.

It appeared Alastor wasn’t the only one to notice that flicker of expression, for when Fonzie spoke to break that heavy pause his tone and cadence was less pointed, a touch more polite, even if what he actually said was final and brooked no argument.

“We will accompany you both.”

Aurelius shifted his gaze, then, to the twins. “I expected nothing less.” He withdrew his wand from his robe pocket, holding it aloft.

“One, two,” and then, as Aurelius cast his charm silently, the twins ended their cast. Somehow they’d managed to work in tandem, none of their individual spellwork causing any fluctuation or imbalance.

“Neatly done,” Aurelius remarked to the twins.

Max accepted the compliment in silence, offering a slight nod while Fonzie spared him a slight smirk, “Not so bad yourself, Herr Moody.”

Alastor couldn’t help a quiet laugh, which he immediately regretted when it only made him ache more and set off another coughing fit. To his credit, Aurelius appeared to decide not to respond to Fonzie’s slightly sarcastic return or to Alastor’s laugh.

“Best get on, then,” said Aurelius, making his way to exit the common room, gently floating Alastor at his side while the Albrechts followed behind them.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Acute bronchitis,” Madam Arden, the school nurse, announced after examining Alastor thoroughly. “Medicine and bed rest for you, young man.”

Alastor nodded, wishing only to go back to his bed in the dormitory and sleep. “May I go, Madam?”

“Leave my hospital wing when you’re this sick?” she exclaimed, appearing shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing. “You’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Yes, Madam Arden.” Alastor sighed, resigning himself.

“I’m glad you have the sense not to argue,” she commented before bustling off to her office, presumably to get the medicine.

Alastor looked over to where Aurelius, Fonzie, and Max had been waiting patiently. “You’ll tell the others?”

“Of course,” Fonzie said in unison with Max, both smiling reassuringly before Max went on to say, “Just rest and recover, all right?”

Alastor nodded as Aurelius moved forward, “I’ll let Mother and Father know as well.”

“Thank you, Aurelius.” Alastor smiled faintly up at his brother. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Aurelius, but he rather liked being fussed over by more than his friends.

Nodding, Aurelius briefly squeezed Alastor’s shoulder and left the Hospital Wing. Max and Fonzie followed a moment later, sparing another reassuring smile just as Madam Arden returned with Alastor’s medicine.

“I’m glad to see those boys have some sense. Here, drink.”

“Yes, Madam Arden.” Alastor drank the dose without comment, though he shuddered at the taste.

“What were you expecting, gillywater?” She tutted as she had him lie back down and tucked the covers in around him. “Now, sleep.”

“Yes, Madam Arden.” Alastor sighed as he let sleep wash over him like a wave.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

When he awoke, Alastor was surprised to find he had a visitor. “Professor Dumbledore?”

“Hello, my boy,” the potions professor answered calmly, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

He stared at his professor for a few moments before asking, “Why are you here, Professor?” The next moment Alastor mentally cringed over how rude that sounded.

“I only wished to see how you were faring, Mr. Moody.” Professor Dumbledore patted the boy’s hand reassuringly.

Alastor was puzzled. “How did you know I was here, Sir?”

“Madam Arden informed all the professors last evening,” the potions professor explained, the twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly. “Acute bronchitis, not a pleasant experience if I remember correctly, but, then again, illnesses are never pleasant experiences.”

“No, they certainly aren’t,” Alastor agreed with a laugh, which quickly turned into a coughing fit that left him clutching his ribs. “Oh, ow.”

Professor Dumbledore had risen from his seat during the boy’s coughing fit and now gently squeezed a shoulder. “I can see that my presence is detracting from your recovery,” he chuckled quietly. “I shall leave you now. Get well soon, my boy.”

“Thank you for coming, Professor.” Alastor smiled sincerely up at his professor.

As the professor moved to the door, a buzz of voices preceded the appearance of Alastor’s friends. “Hello, gentlemen and lady.”

“Hello, Professor, we came to visit the patient. Hasn’t died yet, has he?” Griffith was the first to answer.

Rremly quickly inserted himself, “Griff! What a thing to say!”

“Rrem, he’s just joking and you know it,” Stewart sounded vastly amused.

Percy’s deepening voice was the next to be heard, “Now, now, we’re here to visit a friend, remember?”

“Honestly! Do you two need a time-out?” Belladonna’s dry voice followed on the heels of Percy’s.

For their part, Felix and the twins chuckled and kept silent.

Stewart countered, “Oi! I’ll have you know, I haven’t had a time out since I was six.” 

“Yeah, only because his Mum finally figured out that it didn’t do any good,” Griffith added, deadpan.

While the others roared with laughter, Rremly slipped over to Alastor’s bed, followed by Felix and the Albrechts, and quietly asked, “Feeling all right there, Al? I brought you something from lunch because you missed it.”

“And breakfast,” Alastor added, accepting the ham sandwich Rremly held out to him. “Thanks.”

Rremly ducked his head and smiled the quiet smile that was such a comfort to all of them, blushing profusely. “Think nothing of it.”

A nudge at his knee caused him to look past Rremly to see Belladonna standing by the bed expectantly. A little surprised, he moved his leg and she plopped down on the bed.

“Haven’t lost a lung or anything, have you?”

“No,” Alastor assured her as the others made their way over to the bed and gathered around it. “Thought I might, though,” he added as Griffith climbed over the footboard and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Stewart bounced over to the bed with Percy, Felix, the twins, and even Milo, bringing up the rear.

Alastor looked at the faces gazing down at him, a little humbled by what he saw in them. Rremly and Milo, standing near the head of the bed, looked concerned and ready to help at the first sign that Alastor needed any. Belladonna, perched by Alastor’s right knee, still wore the smirk, but he could tell that she would have hexed the bronchitis away if she should. Griffith, lounging at the foot of the bed, had a half-grin on his face, but Alastor could see the concern in his yellow eyes. Percy, stood at the corner of the bed beside Milo, both looking similarly concerned and sympathetic. Felix and the twins, stood beside Percy, three sets of vivid blue eyes gazing at him with equal consideration and solicitude. Stewart, perched by Alastor’s left knee, wore a bright, daffy grin and his eyes were bright with mirth, though a touch on Alastor’s knee told him that Stewart was trying to comfort Alastor the best way he knew how. He’d expected his friends to visit him, but not en masse like this. It was overwhelming, and yet it warmed his lonely heart.

A pale, lanky fifth-year boy with fine, short, red hair and green-gold eyes suddenly appeared at the bedside between Rremly and Belladonna, holding a goblet in one hand while the other adjusted the amber round-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Good afternoon, Alastor,” the boy greeted him, a light Irish lilt to his voice. “I trust you’re feeling a little better?”

“Er, yes, I am, though I wouldn’t mind if the coughing stopped, too,” Alastor replied, wondering who this boy was, taking notice of the prefect badge on his Ravenclaw robes.

The fifth year prefect nodded slightly in understanding. “Yes, I can quite imagine, which is why I’m here.” He leaned forward slightly, offering the goblet he held to Alastor.

“I was told by Madam Arden to bring you this elixir. It’ll help soothe your throat.” His eyes flickered to the goblet, conveying that Alastor should take it, which the younger boy did.

“I was also told to kindly ask your friends to leave,” here he paused and glanced at the group before continuing on, “but I can see that the comfort they provide will greatly benefit you. I’ll speak with Madam Arden about their staying a little while, but mind you get some rest.”

“Thank you, er, what’s your name?” Alastor asked, cradling the goblet between his hands for moment, fully intending to drink.

“Stephen Carrick,” he replied, his smile small, though nonetheless sincere. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Hello, Stephen.” Alastor smiled a little, finding the prefect’s manner quite soothing.

Stephen returned his smile with tiny half-smile of his own and paused, glancing around at the others. “I should get back to my studies. Good day, Alastor.”

He started to go, but turned back for a moment, “Remember, you must rest.”

Alastor nodded, and he and the others watched him walk to Madam Arden’s office.

Rremly was the first to break the silence. “Carrick… Holden’s on quite friendly terms with him, I wonder that I didn’t recognize him.”

Stewart pursed his lips, thinking for a moment as Alastor began drinking the elixir. “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen him in the library. Always has a stack of books surrounding him.” He gestured to indicate what he meant. “Takes up nearly the whole table. Always did wonder about that.”

“I’ve heard that Stephen takes on extra projects,” Percy commented lightly. “Likes to study Muggle subjects.”

“Particularly the sciences, like medicine, botany, and zoology,” Felix calmly elaborated. “He’s something of a naturalist.”

Griffith’s brows furrowed, staring at him in confusion, “Zoology?”

“Botany?” Stewart chimed in, quite curious.

Felix gave them a small, patient smile. “Botany is the study of plants and zoology the study of animals. Think of it as Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, just without the magical element.”

Griffith had the sort of expression on his face that indicated how strange it was to contemplate such a thing.

“You know, I’ve seen him out in the courtyard, looking at all the different plants and inspecting insects,” Belladonna remarked, pursing her lips, her dark green eyes slightly narrowed in thought.

“It’s all really interesting, actually,” commented Felix, lips forming another little smile. “He’s let me borrow a few of his books and we’ve had some pleasant conversations concerning these subjects, particularly on butterflies and dragonflies.”

“Dragonflies?” Surprisingly, this curious murmur had come from Milo.

Still smiling, Felix reached into his pocket and withdrew a postcard that had some sort of fine colored sketch on the front, which he held out to Milo. From what Alastor could see, the creature drawn bore very little resemblance to the creature it was named after.

Shyly, Milo took the postcard and appeared to inspect the drawing closely, apparently unaware that he murmured the word ‘fascinating’ aloud. Beside Milo, Percy appeared to be equally fascinated, thought not with the drawing so much as Milo’s expression of open curiosity and wonder.

“Doesn’t even look like a dragon, though,” said Griffith, looking at the postcard over Milo’s shoulder.

Belladonna’s hand shot up swiftly, smacking the back of Griffith’s head. “ _Rude_.”

“ _Oi_!” He glared at her. “Merlin’s balls! It’s always violence with you!”

“Well,” she glared back, “nothing else seems to work on you.”

Alastor was infinitely pleased that he’d already finishing drinking from the goblet otherwise he would have spit it all out with his laughter. As it was, the only thing he had to deal with was his soreness being aggravated by the laughter.

Rremly took the goblet from Alastor and set it on the small table nearby. “I think it’s time we let Alastor rest.”

“Thanks, Rrem.” Alastor smiled up at the other boy as he caught his breath, appreciating—not for the first time—Rremly’s perfect sense of timing.

Rremly ducked his head, his cheeks turning touched with red again. “You needn’t thank me. Just get well.”

“All right, mate, you just rest and no partying while we’re gone,” Stewart told Alastor, nudging his shoulder in a playful way while Griffith clambered back over the footboard and landed lightly on his feet, still glaring at Belladonna.

Alastor laughed at that, only to have it turn into another coughing fit.

“Bloody hell, Stew! Don’t make him laugh!”

“Oi, I hadn’t expected you to lose a lung over that!” Stewart exclaimed, glaring at Belladonna with a mock-indignant expression, as she’d been the one to chastise him.

Alastor managed to catch his breath and grinned up at Stewart. “I will, if you stay much longer, prat.”

“Prat and demmed proud of it!” Stewart grinned and saluted in a jaunty manner.

“I’ll see you later, Al,” said Percy, fondly exasperated as he leaned in over Stewart’s shoulder. “Now, come along, Stew.”

“Yes, Mum.” Stewart laughed and followed Percy.

 “Hope to see you feeling better tomorrow,” Fonzie winked, Max and Felix echoing the sentiment.

 Milo, in his shy simplicity, told him, “Take care,” before he turned, making his way to the door where, Alastor noticed, Percy appeared to be waiting.

 Now only Rremly remained, meeting his gaze, and it surprised him looking a little a bit guilty and anxious.

 “Rrem?” Alastor voiced, concerned and a little bit worried.

 Biting his lip, Rremly seemed to hesitate for a moment before he moved closer. “Please don’t be upset, but I asked the twins to look through your things for this,” and here he withdrew from his pocket the two-way hand held mirror he’d given to Alastor as a gift, holding it out to him.

“I thought you might get bored or lonely, especially before bed,” Rremly explained, anxious over how he’d react.

Alastor took the mirror, tracing the side of it. He couldn’t deny that he certainly wasn’t pleased with the invasion of privacy, but having gotten to know the twins better, he knew and trusted that they would have made a quick and respectful search; and the obvious kindness and thoughtfulness behind the request and gesture from Rremly went a long way toward easing his discomfiture.

“It’s all right, really.” He met his friend’s eyes, hoping to reassure him.

Looking marginally less anxious, Rremly stepped closer. “ _Really_?”

“ _Really_.” Alastor smiled, nudging the hufflepuff’s wrist lightly with his hand. “Thanks.”

Catching his hand, Rremly squeezed gently, smiling in return as he sat down beside Alastor, their hips lightly touching with the mirror on the bed near them. For the next few moments they shared a companionable silence, just smiling at each other until Alastor had to glance away, feeling a touch of warm in his cheeks. This moment was quite different from any other he’d previously shared with Rremly. It felt strange, though not necessarily in a bad way.

Something of his thoughts must have showed in his expression, prompting Rremly to say, “I should go and let you rest.” He gave Alastor’s hand another little squeeze before letting go and getting to his feet.

Very much sincere, he caught Rremly’s gaze and said, “Thanks again.”

His friend just smiled before he turned and made his way quietly to the door, sparing a last glance back at Alastor before he stepped out, disappearing from view.

Lying down, Alastor closed his eyes, turning the mirror in his hands. A curious warmth started to fill him the more he toyed with the mirror. Even though they’d been friends for more than a year, he still couldn’t quite fathom why Rremly would go to such effort for him- why anyone would, really. Though he remained a little confused by the idea, Alastor couldn’t help but smile.

Shifting onto his side, he slid the mirror part way under his pillow and kept his hand on the exposed handle. Quietly sighing his contentment, Alastor closed his eyes and let himself drift in his thoughts.


End file.
